


Legacies

by soulfulsin



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27751405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsin/pseuds/soulfulsin
Summary: When Lena overhears something she shouldn't, it raises questions about Webby's real family.
Comments: 41
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right, so, I'm posting this on its own, as a fanfic, in the hopes that I'll be able to go through with it. I make no promises--2020's been rough creativewise.

Damn that Harp. Mrs. Beakley had had everything under control until the Harp of Mevanna felt the need to blab. Thankfully, Webby hadn’t heard its last utterances, but it was already too late. She’d already encountered her mother, though thankfully she didn’t know it yet. Still, if she met her mother, this whole tenuous situation would unravel. Mrs. Beakley had built herself a house of cards and it was one step from caving in.

* * *

Mrs. Beakley sat, drinking her tea, wishing that FOWL had never re-entered her life. She had no idea how to tell Webby the truth and feared losing her. How would Webby feel if she discovered that her whole life was built on a lie? She and Scrooge had discussed this, but he was hardly one for advocating spilling family secrets. After all, he and Donald hadn’t spoken for ten years over Della and Donald had told the boys nothing about their mother. 

So perhaps he wasn’t the best example. 

She frowned, watching the doorway. It was late and the children should be abed. Yet she thought she saw a familiar pink-streaked duckling pass. Putting aside the tea for the time being (it was de-caf and herbal, designed to relax her though now it was doing nothing of the sort), she walked to the doorway. By then, however, Lena had vanished. 

Scrooge raised his eyebrows at Mrs. Beakley. “Ye donnae think that the wee lass heard anything, do ye?”

“I do,” she said. “But how much is another story.”

“Oh, come now,” he scoffed. “We didn’t say anything particularly sensitive. And we know that Lena can keep a secret.”

“Yes, that would rather be the problem, wouldn’t it?” she said sharply, causing Scrooge to look askance. “Lena’s prowess at secret-keeping?”

When he didn’t speak again, she said quieter, but still intense, “If Webby discovers the truth about who her parents really are, who _I_ really am, it could destroy her.”

She scowled. “With FOWL breathing down our necks, the chances that Webby will encounter her mother are growing.”

“Ye cannae keep the child locked up in the manor anymore,” Scrooge reminded her. 

“I know that,” she hissed. 

“What did you tell her about her parents, anyway?” Scrooge said in a would-be casual voice.

“I told her that they both died in a FOWL related incident,” she replied. “That was the only time she asked and I ended the conversation there.”

“Ye don’t know that she’ll find out,” he reasoned. 

“The more FOWL interferes with us, the greater the chance it’s going to happen,” she reminded him. 

It might be better coming from her, but she was reluctant to spill. Finding out from a FOWL agent that her mother was FOWL, that her grandmother wasn’t related to her, and that her background was a lie would destroy Webby. She couldn’t afford to let that happen. She would just have to keep a closer eye on her and push away any doubts or aspersions. 

“Far be it for me to lecture, Beakley, but if you know she’s going to find out eventually, perhaps ye might--”

“Might what?” she said sharply. “I’m not taking that chance. And since when do you have the moral high ground?”

“Keeping secrets tore my family apart. I cannae let you make the same mistakes.”

Mrs. Beakley rolled her eyes but reluctantly acquiesced. “The likelihood of her encountering her mother is slim, anyway. Her mother is, as far as I know, a FOWL flunky. She won’t be high enough up to matter.”

Her eyes narrowed. “But she’s still FOWL. And Webby’s father being FOWL too complicates matters further. To have abandoned a child!”

“With FOWL, I can believe it,” Scrooge said flatly. 

“I can see I won’t be getting much sleep tonight.” She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do around the manor in the meanwhile. There’s always something.”

* * *

Lena ducked back into the shadows. She still felt uneasy cloaking herself in magic like that, especially because of her former connection to Magica. Now she had another reason to feel uneasy--what was she supposed to tell Webby? On the one hand, keeping the truth from Webby was wrong, especially in light of Mrs. Beakley withholding it for over a decade. On the other hand, she didn’t have all of the facts. And she knew as well as Beakley did that hearing her parents _were_ FOWL instead of having been killed _by_ FOWL was a substantial difference.

Why would Webby’s parents be in FOWL, if Mrs. Beakley was in SHUSH? It didn’t make sense. Then again, spy stuff didn’t usually make sense. She frowned, folding her arms across her chest, and assessed the situation. She had to tell Webby. She couldn’t tell her. 

She was stuck in an impossible situation. Telling Violet would only be one step closer to that, but she’d promised her best friend no more secrets. Lena groaned, sliding against the wall. She didn’t want to upset Webby, not when she was so happy with the boys and her life here. The boys were like her family--but Mrs. Beakley _was_ her family.

Or was she? No, no, she couldn’t start guessing like that. That would dismantle everything and send it all crashing down.

She cursed softly. She had no idea what to do. At least there was no shadow aunt riding her and dismissing all of her decisions, but she hadn’t felt this alone in a long time. She made up her mind. She’d tell her. Webby had made her promise no more secrets and although this wasn’t her secret to tell, it was wrong to conceal it from her for so long.

But how would Webby react? Lena’s footsteps slowed and she was relieved to see that Webby was fast asleep. Unfortunately, Violet was not.

“Did you get lost on the way back?” Violet queried.

“No,” Lena scoffed. She couldn’t very well admit that she’d been eavesdropping, the first time by accident and the second time on purpose. Moreover, her thoughts were circling again. This wasn’t her secret to tell. How could Lena protect Webby from the ramifications of it while still informing her?

“You look as if you’ve swallowed a lemon,” Violet commented.

“Just remembering something unpleasant,” Lena lied. Even though she was out of practice with routine lying, it slipped off her tongue easily. 

“Hmm,” Violet said and scrutinized her sister. Lena glared back, hoping the hostility would be off-putting enough that her sister would desist. Violet raised her eyebrows. 

“Nightmares?” 

Lena almost collapsed with relief. She’d fooled her, then. Or, at least, she could deflect her attention until a later time, when she might be capable of addressing the real problem. Unbidden, her gaze went to Webby. 

“You could say that,” Lena said. 

They weren’t _her_ nightmares, though. They were Webby’s. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper finds herself fixated on Webby and Lena has to make a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words. They are hard. I had a good day today, so there will be one more chapter after this one posted.

_“Hi, I’m Pepper!”_

_“Hi, Pepper, I’m Webby!”_

She didn’t know why that little girl from Castle McDuck was still bothering her. She just felt so familiar, like she ought to know her. Pepper couldn’t explain it, which made her feel inadequate. Then again, FOWL was pretty good at doing that, which was why she tried not to dwell on it. She just kept pushing on with her cheer and vivacity. 

But the girl. Pepper couldn’t get her out of her head. They had barely had more than a minute’s worth of interaction. Webby had tackled her and then kicked the bagpipes out of her hands. The Phantom Blot would say that Pepper was freaking out over nothing, but Pepper wasn’t so sure. For one thing, Webby gave off such similar energy to Pepper’s. She could tell that by being around her, even for a minute. 

However, that could be residual weirdness. Weird people stuck together, didn’t they? And a minute wasn’t a lot of time to interact with a kid. Pepper didn’t know how she felt about kids. Once, she’d laid an egg that she thought was viable, but when she’d gone looking for it later, it’d disappeared. Pepper had mourned it for a while but after over a decade, she assumed whatever had happened had happened. There was no point bemoaning the past.

Maybe she’d been mistaken. Maybe the egg wasn’t fertilized and it’d been a routine egg. Pepper sighed. She was getting herself down again. It was just an egg. It didn’t mean anything. 

Nonetheless, she felt that pull toward Webby. She didn’t think that the missing egg and Webby were related; that was too much of a stretch. However, if that wasn’t the case, then why was she feeling maternal all of a sudden? She’d never tried for another egg after she’d lost it. What was the point? 

Pepper stared at herself without the Egghead helmet on. Her blonde hair fell in a bob about her head. It was always so stuffy under those things. The Egghead suits weren’t terribly comfortable either. 

But FOWL had taken her in and taken her on when no one else would. She owed them her allegiance and more. Besides, working for a criminal organization had its perks. She got free healthcare and dental, for one thing. For another, she always had a place to stay and food to eat. They provided for her, so she put the work in. It didn’t feel like merely a job to her, but a family. Growing up, Pepper had always wanted a family, but it’d just been her alone. She didn’t have an illustrious family background the way Clan McDuck did. 

So, maybe her longing to meet Webby again was based on a feeling of loss. It was nothing deeper than that. She could get on with her life and her Egghead duties. Plus, she had wanted to see the Phantom Blot at work at Funso’s, though he’d repeatedly told her not to go. He was much nicer in person than the other Eggheads made him out to be.

Yet, try as she might, she couldn’t entirely brush this off. Putting her helmet back on, she told her that this was a one-off. Besides, they were after the same artifacts as the McDuck/Duck family. Their paths would cross again. With any luck, she’d find Webby and get a chance to ask her why she was so strikingly familiar. 

Pepper was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. She laughed to herself, but it rang false. She pushed aside thoughts of Webby and the missing egg from her mind, but it felt like the harder she pushed, the more the thoughts pushed back. They refused to be diminished.

What _had_ befallen that egg? How had it disappeared so quickly? Had someone taken it because they’d known it was viable? But why steal it from her? It was true that FOWL was no place for kids, but she would’ve provided for the hatchling somehow. She wouldn’t have abandoned it, not the way she’d been left.

If the hatchling had grown up, it’d be about twelve or thirteen now. Something could’ve happened to it, which made her inexplicably sad. She hadn’t even known the hatchling and she was mourning it. _Now_ she was being ridiculous. For heaven’s sake, it was just an egg. She didn’t know if it’d hatched or not. 

When had she grown so sentimental over nothing? Maybe it had to do with her new partner. People didn’t like to get close to her. They seemed to think she was too intense. It’d been that way since she was a child. Pepper had gotten used to it, but it did grow lonely occasionally.

A baby wouldn’t have been afraid to get close. Pepper sighed, shaking her head. Enough of this maudlin stuff. She was an Egghead, not a mother, and she would never be a mother. She had accepted that.

Still, it would’ve been nice to have a family. Possibly, someday, she could envision that. Settling down with another evil henchman. They could have a Merry Chaotic Christmas. Or a Villainous Birthday. Pepper smiled, but it was half-hearted. She wasn’t feeling it today. She hated this funk. She wished that she had someone to talk to. Would the Phantom Blot brush her off if she tried talking to him?

There was nothing for it but to try, assuming he didn’t throw her out for showing up at Funso’s without giving him a heads’ up first. Then she’d be worse off than when she started. 

That egg and Webby--it’d be dangerous to conflate the two. That didn’t stop her from thinking on it repeatedly as she ascended the elevator to Funso’s main floor to seek out the Phantom Blot. If anything, the trip to locate him was too short, because she couldn’t chase away the blues.

“Hey,” she said, approaching him. The Phantom Blot groaned.

“Didn’t I tell you not to bother me at work?” he grumbled. “You’re going to ruin my cover.”

Pepper smiled weakly. “But I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” he said, huffing. Though he seemed aggravated, he wasn’t pushing her away, which was a good sign. She idly watched the kids running around Funso’s. None of them was Webby, which she hadn’t expected but still felt disappointed by.

“What do you know about that girl, Webby?”

“Webby?” he repeated, baffled. “She’s Lena de Spell’s best friend. She thwarted my first attempt to steal the de Spell magic away and forced me to remake my glove. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” she said. She paused and then added, “You don’t think she’s like me, do you?”

“Like you in what way?” 

Though she couldn’t see his face, she imagined he looked puzzled. His eyes glowed in his mask and she wondered what he looked like without it and if he ever took it off. Now was not the time to investigate that.

“You know, same bright cheerfulness,” Pepper said, already feeling stupid for having brought this up. She had taken a step too far and involved someone else in her insanity. Shaking her head, she stepped back and said, “You know what? Never mind. It’s not important.”

“It must be important if you came here to talk to me.”

He frowned or so she imagined. 

“I don’t know her well enough to say,” he said finally, after a moment’s deliberation. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” she said and laughed shrilly. “Never mind.”

“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he said and she heard the frown in his voice.

“A little,” she admitted, feeling sheepish.

“More than a little,” he said. “I’ll tell you what--if we encounter them again and if you think you can tie her up and interrogate her, be my guest.”

“Thanks!” Pepper said and flashed him a bright smile. She’d like to imagine that he’d smiled back, but in actuality, he probably hadn’t.

“Now could you please go?” he said. “I’m trying to work.”

“Oh, oh, right. Sorry,” she said. “This is me, leaving.”

She vanished the way she had come, though inwardly, she exulted. She’d trapped the boys pretty easily; how hard could Webby be? Maybe she wouldn’t even need to trap Webby. Maybe somehow, she’d be able to talk to her and get this resolved. Then she could get on with her life.

* * *

Lena sat back, not certain what to do with herself. She had returned to Violet’s house, but the secret swirled inside of her. She half expected Aunt Magica to bite her head off for it. Oh, if she’d known that Webby’s family history was a mess, she’d have crooned. She would have taken every opportunity to hurt Webby just to get back at her for Lena’s affection.

That didn’t make Lena feel any better. She’d have to tell her sooner or later. Moreover, she’d have to tell Violet something, because she was bound to grow suspicious soon.

Lena gazed around her room. In the short time that she’d been here, she’d managed to decorate it to her tastes. It didn’t look quite like the room beneath the theatre, because she didn’t want to recreate those bad memories. Instead, it contained a collage of her, Violet, and Webby on a bulletin board, band posters, and any other pictures that reminded her of her new life as opposed to being yoked to Magica’s will.

If she was going to continue her reformation, she needed to come clean. But she didn’t have to prove anything, not according to Webby. She was a good guy now. Having the secret within her didn’t make her feel that way, but she was still stuck on what to do.

Violet might know what to do. Her sister was out at some nerd thing that Lena had declined to go to, figuring she’d be bored out of her skull. Ty was out too, leaving her with Indy, who was fussing with something in the kitchen. Violet’s dads might be safe to confide in if she could figure out how to vocalize what had happened. 

Yet she didn’t have the willpower to get up right now. Sighing, she decided a few more minutes playing a phone game wouldn’t hurt. Mrs. Beakley had kept it from Webby this long. A few more minutes wouldn’t mean much.

She wanted to tell her, but she feared her reaction. Webby meant everything to her and she didn’t want to be the one who upset her again. After Lena’s “death”, Webby had spent months concealing her feelings and only confiding in her grandmother and crying on her own. She hadn’t told the boys how upset she was. Now Lena could sunder that precious relationship. Family meant everything to Webby and her found family was a big deal. 

How could she casually snip it away? 

Webby would want to know who her parents were. Mrs. Beakley might not know. Or she might know and not want to tell. Lena groaned. What a mess. Poor pink.

She’d tell her after rehearsing how with Violet, once her sister returned and hope that she wasn’t about to blow everything sky high.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper furthers her plans and Lena's caught in a worsening situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, CBD oil! It turns out it was anxiety keeping me from writing. ^^;

For a wonder, Webby didn’t approach Funso’s, which meant that Pepper had to figure out where she hung out normally. Thankfully, FOWL was busy with investigations all over the planet, so it shouldn’t prove too difficult to find another magical artifact, tag along with the Phantom Blot, and encounter the McDuck/Duck family. However, Pepper had never been particularly patient, not when it came to something that she really desired. She found herself chomping at the bit.

She knew where Webby lived; she knew where all of the Duck kids lived, but she wasn’t about to crash their house. That was their fortress and besides, it was hardly subtle. So she found herself bouncing around FOWL HQ and trying to distract herself. Unfortunately, she was failing abysmally. 

It had gotten so bad that Black Heron had ordered her away and Steelbeak had threatened her, though she hadn’t paid much attention to Steelbeak. His bark was worse than his bite. 

What she needed to do was find the kids in town, if they couldn’t get a job any quicker. They were scouting out magical sources, so claimed Director Buzzard, and it was infuriating how slow they were. 

Maybe she’d strike out on her own outside of her Egghead outfit. That way, Webby wouldn’t recognize her, but she’d recognize the girl. It sounded foolproof to her. 

Taking off her outfit granted her anonymity and she wandered Duckburg’s streets. She tried to figure out where Webby would go, if not for Funso’s, and then ran a list in her head of where children went. She could be at the library, Pepper supposed. As a child, Pepper had been drawn to libraries, but she’d always ended up getting kicked out because she was too rambunctious. It didn’t dim her love for knowledge, but it did make her wary of librarians. They were far too fond of shushing people.

Still, she had the sense that aside from her adventures, Webby didn’t get out much. It wasn’t from anything she knew quantitatively, but rather because she only saw children at Funso’s. Theoretically, they could be anywhere. She needed a way to narrow down the search.

She wandered the boardwalk and glanced up at the dreary sky overhead. It was cloudy, threatening storms, and few people were out. The fishermen were, of course, but she wasn’t looking for them. She saw little Timmy Jenkins and his coterie of friends, but no indication of the Duck boys or their friend. That just meant she’d have to step up her game.

She couldn’t idly walk by McDuck Manor, though she could pass the gates. She might be able to scale them, but then Scrooge’s DT-87 security system would nab her. Reports from other FOWL agents mentioned needing a team to break down their security. One person might evade it, but she wasn’t that skilled. Could she lure her out? With what, though? It wasn’t that Pepper wasn’t sneaky, though that was part of it, but that she legitimately had no reason to call on Webby. And it was creepy for an adult to call on a kid. FOWL’s cover was effectively blown, but that was no reason to be careless.

She wandered past the junkyard and the Beagle Boys’ hideout and sniffed. The Beagle Boys were such low time criminals that even FOWL wanted nothing to do with them. Black Heron considered them beneath her. Pepper wasn’t so sure, but she knew that the Beagle Boys were too stupid to be counted on for much. She lingered, nonetheless wondering if they could be used as bait.

Finally, she shook her head at herself and walked on. Besides, she didn’t want to go in there outnumbered. It was as foolish as walking into McDuck Manor unannounced. Never go somewhere that the guns and enemies outnumber you. That was one of FOWL’s credos.

_ “What  _ are you doing?” a familiar deep voice snapped and Pepper startled, whirling around. She relaxed when she saw who it was.

“Oh, hey,” she said and smiled at him. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you were still working.”

“My shift was over at five,” he said. He cast a disdainful look at the junkyard. Or maybe she only imagined he did. She had to picture a lot of his expressions.

“Fancy that,” Pepper said, though her tone was subdued. “You don’t have a new mission, do you?”

“No,” he said. “You’re still thinking about that girl, aren’t you?”

“Was it that obvious?” she said and laughed weakly. 

“Yes.”

She sighed. “I just feel like if I could talk to her once, I’d be able to sort this out and move on.”

“And McDuck Manor has powerful magical charms around it,” the Phantom Blot mused. “Anti-magic and magic. The two combine to help protect the house, along with the DT-87. That could be a lucrative grab.”

“I thought Director Buzzard didn’t want us interfering directly with the McDuck family,” she pointed out.

He gave her a look. “I’m not saying to run a siege. I’m saying it would give you five minutes to talk to the kid.”

“Oh. Oh!” She beamed at him. “That’s very considerate of you.”

“It’ll have to be at a time when they’re not expecting anyone,” he continued and flushed under her scrutiny. “Otherwise, it won’t work.”

“Couldn’t we just kidnap her and then talk to her afterward?” Pepper mused.

He stared hard at her. “She’s not an easy one to grab. She’s been trained by Agent 22; she’s her granddaughter. It was in the FOWL files.”

“Uh-huh,” Pepper said and frowned. “I don’t remember Agent 22 having any kids.”

The Phantom Blot seemed to smile. His countenance grew less hostile, anyway, though he’d ceased being overtly hostile during their mission together. It was more like talking to a brick wall versus something softer and easier to reach. Like she was getting in touch with the person behind the mask.

“Nor do I,” the Phantom Blot said. “There’s your ‘in’.”

“I don’t understand. Why should she believe me over her grandmother?”

“Her ‘grandmother’ probably didn’t provide an airtight story,” he replied. “We might not need to meet her at the manor if we can get a message to her for her to meet us.”

“Yeah, but she’s not gonna go without the boys,” Pepper said, frowning. “I mean, capturing them the last time wasn’t terribly difficult. We could always scope out the appropriate place and meet her on our terms.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, pleased that she’d cottoned on. 

“I don’t know anything about her parents,” she pointed out. 

The Phantom Blot studied her with an intensity she found unnerving. It reminded her why the other Eggheads avoided him. She also wondered how he’d recognized her without her Egghead gear, standing there with her hair loose and wearing blue jeans and a band t-shirt. Had she been talking to herself again? She did that often.

“That won’t be a problem,” he assured her. 

“If Agent 22 isn’t really her grandmother, then who is she?” Pepper wondered aloud.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he said, smug. Even though he’d been soundly defeated by Webby and her friends, the Phantom Blot was willing to do this for Pepper anyway. Pepper was touched and she hugged him. The Phantom Blot stared at her until she released him.

“Sorry, sorry. Got a little carried away,” she said, sheepish.

“You really haven’t figured it out, have you?” he mused and she cocked her head. 

“Figured out what?”

“Nothing. It’s probably just a coincidence.”

“Go on, tell me!” she pressed. 

“I’ll tell you later,” he promised and she huffed.

“No, tell me now.”

“It can wait,” he assured her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

* * *

Mrs. Beakley had checked in on her granddaughter for the third time tonight. She was having another sleepover with Lena and Violet and try as she might, she couldn’t seem to leave her alone. She had the feeling that something was about to give and she wanted to protect Webby for as long as she could. That was all she’d ever wanted for Webby, protection, a decent childhood, and love. She loved Webby more than she could say.

Webby couldn’t have gotten that in FOWL and finding out the truth would tear her poor granddaughter apart. For a little while longer, she wanted to keep her in the dark. Maybe she’d be lucky and nothing would force her hand, but she didn’t think that she’d be that fortunate.

For now, Webby could sleep untroubled. 

Mrs. Beakley glanced around the room and discovered Lena was awake. Not only that, but the shadow teenager was staring at her. Wordlessly, Lena rose, disentangling herself from her sister and best friend, and approached her.

“We need to talk, Abbey Road,” Lena said.

Mrs. Beakley smiled sadly. “I had a feeling you might say that.”

“Away from Webby, though,” Lena said. 

“Of course,” she agreed. Let Webby have sweet dreams for as long as she could.

They filed into the kitchen and Mrs. Beakley made Lena a cup of tea, herbal to prevent her from staying up all night. It was a force of habit and it gave her something to do with her hands. It also kept her from glancing in Lena’s direction, which meant she could avoid the conversation for a few minutes more.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last forever and she brought the teacups to the table. Lena didn’t touch hers. Instead, she fixed Mrs. Beakley a direct look.

“When are you planning on telling her?” she asked, keeping her voice down although Webby’s room and the kitchen were nowhere near each other. This was the type of conversation one had in low voices.

“I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to. How much did you overhear?” she countered and Lena raised her eyebrows.

“Does it matter?” she said. “I know enough.”

“Yet you haven’t told Webby.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Lena snapped. “I can’t just break her heart again. Do you know how hard it was to defy my aunt knowing it’d hurt Webby?”

“You care for her a great deal,” Mrs. Beakley noted, sipping at her herbal tea. 

“You know that I do,” Lena countered, although Mrs. Beakley wondered at the depth of Lena’s feelings toward Webby. Lena would never admit them to her, though Violet would probably know. Then again, she didn’t want to rope Violet into this too if she could help it.

“Look, it’s your priority whether you want to keep this back from her, but the longer you hold onto it, the worse it’s going to be when she finds out,” Lena said. “How do you think she’ll feel when she discovers that her whole life is a lie?”

“She won’t discover it.”

“Really?” Lena said and folded her arms across her chest. She looked skeptical. “You’ve stopped keeping her locked up in McDuck Manor. You know you can’t protect her from everything anymore. You’re not fooling me, Ringo.”

“I don’t need to ‘fool you’,” she replied primly. “All I need is more time.”

“You’ve had over a decade. How much more time do you need?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Beakley said and sighed. “But please do me a favor and don’t tell her anything.”

Lena looked uneasy. “I told her no more secrets and I meant it. She deserves to know the truth.”

“Know the truth about what?” Webby said and Lena and Mrs. Beakley jumped. “Why are you guys whispering in the middle of the night?”

“It’s nothing, dear,” Mrs. Beakley assured her, lying smoothly. “Go back to sleep.”

“Lena?” Webby said and Lena grimaced. For a second, she looked torn between upholding Mrs. Beakley’s lie and revealing the truth. Mrs. Beakley worried about which would win out. 

“Don’t worry about it, pink,” Lena lied and Mrs. Beakley relaxed. Lena shot her a dirty look.

Webby glanced between the two of them again and her gaze hooked onto Lena. Lena was proficient at lying, perhaps because she had too much experience thanks to Magica de Spell. It made Mrs. Beakley feel sorry for her, although she couldn’t deny that she was grateful Lena was backing her up. She didn’t know for how long.

“Lena?” Webby ventured again. Mrs. Beakley wasn’t sure if Webby knew that Lena was lying or was just hoping she might give her more information.

Lena shook her head. “I’ll see you in a few.”

Webby frowned, watching the two of them. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? You said no more secrets. Remember?”

Lena looked anguished and Mrs. Beakley felt guilty for having put her in this situation. It wasn’t Lena’s secret to tell, but that didn’t change anything.

“No secrets,” Lena promised and Webby nodded, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. She left, however, which was a relief. As soon as she did and she was out of earshot, Lena whirled on her.

“I’m not keeping your secrets for you,” she snapped. “If she asks one more time, I’m telling her, because she’s better off knowing the truth.”

“And being hurt by it?” 

Lena screamed in frustration and left the tea untouched as she stormed out of the room. Mrs. Beakley’s hopes sank. Lena might be good at lying, but the depth of her feelings toward Webby would win out every time. She wasn’t sure if she could run damage control at this point. It might be too late, depending on how much Lena knew.

Lena had learned that she couldn’t hide from who she was or what she was. Mrs. Beakley, conversely, had learned that it was best to conceal who she was from those who might use that identity against her. Webby was too naive sometimes for her own good. Mrs. Beakley would have to see whether Lena realized that Webby still had to be protected or if she disagreed and sent everything tumbling down.

* * *

Lena fumed, too upset to return to Webby’s room right now. She hated lying to Webby. It was too reminiscent of what she’d done under Aunt Magica. She wouldn’t be a co-conspirator in Beakley’s games.

On the other hand, it would hurt Webby tremendously to know the truth and Lena had tried so hard to keep from doing so.

“We need to talk,” Violet said when she gathered herself enough to return to the bedroom. Then, without a word, her sister drew her out into the hallway again. “Something is bothering you. I can tell.”

“I’m in the middle of something stupid,” Lena said. “But it’s such a big deal that I can’t just blow it off. I overheard something that I shouldn’t have and now if I tell Webby, she’ll freak out.”

“I see,” Violet said. “And would you feel up to telling me what that is?”

Lena groaned, letting her head thud back against the wall. “I don’t know, Vi.”

“Let me put this way. Is it actively hurting Webby for her not to know?”

“It’s as bad as my having Aunt Magica for a shadow. How about that?”

“You can’t keep it from her.”

“But I can’t  _ tell  _ her,” she demurred. “It’d devastate her.”

“Then I guess you need to decide which is worse--her living in ignorance or knowing the truth and suffering for it.”

“Gee, thanks for putting that into perspective for me,” Lena said sarcastically.

“I’m only saying what you would have already figured out, had you come to the appropriate conclusion.”

Lena groaned. This wasn’t making it any easier. Then again, she suspected that nothing would. 

“What’s going on?” Webby said and Lena cursed. She covered her beak, realizing too late the word that had slipped out. She usually tried to avoid cursing around Webby.

She should have checked to see if Webby was still in her room before talking to Violet. Lena only had herself to blame. Worse, she didn’t know how much longer she could blow her off.

Violet gave her a look that said “tell her”. Lena gave her a dirty look in response.

“Well?” Webby pressed.

“Oh, crap,” Lena said. It seemed to be the only succinct way to sum up the situation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “We are all the heroes of our own stories..."
> 
> "There is no good and evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it."

Lena wavered, wanting to tell Webby and not. Webby could tell that she was holding back, which troubled her. What if Lena was facing one of her strange shadow problems again and didn’t want to risk offending them, but she was in serious trouble? Webby didn’t think that it had to do with her; Webby wasn’t that self-centered. However, she knew that Lena was afraid of making waves and bringing up her past trauma. She cupped Lena’s cheek.

“Pink…” Lena said, stalling for time. She glanced at Violet for assistance and Violet merely shook her head.

In retrospect, Lena’s behavior in the past often looked like this, with Lena trying to suppress the truth and yearning to tell Webby. Webby projected an accepting, sympathetic aura by smooshing their faces together. Lena laughed nervously, pulling away.

“You’re not going to like it,” she warned. 

“Whatever it is, I’m here for you,” Webby said.

Lena once more glanced at Violet, who shook her head again. 

“Lousy unhelpful sister,” Lena grumbled. 

“I find it’s better to reveal the truth than to keep it concealed,” Violet said, which wasn’t what Lena had wanted to hear because the teenager growled. She glowered at her sister, who looked nonchalant. Webby felt like she was missing subtext here, but she was too concerned about Lena to care.

“What am I not going to like?” Webby asked and Lena sighed.

“I…” Lena faltered and then plunged on. “I overheard the adults talking about you, Webby. The way they made it sound, your grandmother’s keeping something pretty big from you.”

“Granny?” Webby repeated. “Granny would never lie to me.”

Lena winced. “I wouldn’t say that, pink. She thinks she’s protecting you by keeping it back, but it’s a huge deal.”

“What is it?” Violet queried, perhaps sensing as Webby did that Lena was holding the entirety back. Lena looked uneasy, gazing around to determine whether anyone would wander upon them. Maybe she was looking for the boys, but Webby knew for a fact that they were fast asleep.

Though Webby sensed Lena’s anguish, she couldn’t derive its source. She also couldn’t fathom a world in which her grandmother lied to her. True, she’d lied to her with the Harp, but that was different. Anything big, she knew that her grandmother would always tell her the truth.

Wouldn’t she?

“You’re going to hate me,” Lena said.

“I could never hate you,” Webby promised. “I swear on my life. _Never_ , Lena Sabrewing.”

Lena smiled weakly. “Don’t be so sure.”

Swallowing hard, Lena said, “How much do you trust Mrs. B?”

“With my life.”

Lena flinched. “I was afraid that you’d say that.”

“What do you mean?” Webby pressed.

“Webby, your grandmother’s been lying to you. Your whole life. You’re not who you think you are.”

“No, no, no, that’s ridiculous,” Webby said and shook her head to punctuate it. “Granny would never lie to me about something that big. You must’ve misheard them.”

“You have to make this hard on me, don’t you?” Lena muttered and said, louder, “I didn’t ‘mishear’ them. I...I don’t know who your parents are, but they’re not SHUSH.”

“What?” Webby stared. “I mean, I know Granny was a SHUSH agent and I kinda assumed that my parents were too. She never said anything, though. In fact, she’s never said anything about my parents. She brushed me off the one time I asked and she was so upset about it that I never asked again.”

“Your parents weren’t in SHUSH because they were in FOWL,” Lena said and winced as if anticipating an explosion. Webby gawked. She didn’t comprehend what Lena was trying to say. If anything, this muddled things further. How could her parents have been in FOWL? Had they betrayed her grandmother? Was that why Granny never brought them up? Was she ashamed? 

“And…” Lena plunged ahead, like a car heading recklessly toward a cliff. “She’s not your grandmother. I don’t know how she got your egg, pink.”

Webby laughed. “Did you have a nightmare, Lena? None of that is true. Of course Granny is my real grandmother. I don’t know about my parents being FOWL agents, but Granny would _never_ have done what you’re suggesting. She’s a good person.”

“I don’t believe that she’s lying, Webbigail,” Violet interjected quietly. 

“I didn’t say that she was lying,” Webby protested. “It’s impossible. Why would Granny have taken my egg if she weren’t my grandmother? Why would she have raised me in the mansion and trained me how to fight FOWL if FOWL weren’t a significant threat to us? FOWL did something to my parents, maybe, but she never would’ve stolen my egg or raised me like that with no reason.”

“I don’t know why she would’ve done that stuff, but you have to listen to me. I overheard her talking to Scrooge,” Lena said, growing increasingly desperate. “I didn’t dream it up. I didn’t imagine it. Look, just ask her. If she has nothing to hide, she’ll prove it. If she does, well…”

“You’re really convinced about this, aren’t you?” Webby said and Lena hugged her suddenly. It was tight and tears landed on Webby’s cheeks. Startled, Webby pulled back and Lena swiped at her cheeks. Webby thumbed away her tears.

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you again,” Lena said. 

“You didn’t mean to hurt me the last time,” she reminded her.

“I still did,” Lena pointed out. “But you need to talk to Beakley. Like, right now.”

“I still think that you misheard,” Webby said. “But we can go.”

They set off toward the kitchen, where Lena had overheard them. Mrs. Beakley was still there, nursing a cup of tea. She looked surprised to see the assembled group. Then her eyes narrowed and she glanced at Lena. Lena couldn’t meet her gaze and she scrutinized her.

“Granny, who were my parents?” Webby said, feeling a little foolish for asking but also curious as to why Mrs. Beakley was glaring at her best friend like that. So far as she knew, her grandmother and Lena were on good terms. Or, at least, they’d been so before tonight. Webby’s stomach flip-flopped. She didn’t want to believe what Lena had told her. It threatened everything that she knew, so she refused to accept it. No, she didn’t think that her best friend was lying or deceiving her. She simply thought Lena was mistaken.

“Now, dear, why would you ask a question like that?” her grandmother said and shook her head. “I’ve told you before. They were killed by FOWL.”

“Killed by FOWL...or _were_ FOWL?” Lena countered and Mrs. Beakley shot her a sharp glance.

“My parents weren’t FOWL, were they?” Webby said, feeling a panic balloon in her chest. “You would’ve told me if you had a son or daughter who went over to FOWL, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Beakley said and Webby, though not mollified, felt like this was as far as she wanted to push things. Lena, however, folded her arms across her chest.

“Tell her the truth, Abbey Road,” she demanded. 

“There is no ‘truth’,” Mrs. Beakley scoffed. “You’re behaving as if this is a vast conspiracy, which it isn’t. Webbigail’s parents perished in a FOWL related incident and that’s the end of the story.”

“You’re really my grandmother, aren’t you?” Webby burst out.

“What?” Mrs. Beakley said, nonplussed. She said, then, too quickly, “Of course I am, my dear. What’s gotten into you?”

“Webby, she’s lying,” Violet said quietly and Webby glanced at her.

“Why would I lie?” Mrs. Beakley said and, getting up, hugged her. “I would never want to hurt you, Webby. I have no reason to lie to you and I have nothing to hide.”

Who did she believe more? Her grandmother, who had raised her, or her best friend, who had died to save her? She glanced between the two and her stomach somersaulted. She didn’t know what to do or who to turn to. As far as she knew, her grandmother had never lied to her, especially not over something this major. On the other hand, Lena _had_ lied to her. Repeatedly. But that was under duress thanks to Magica de Spell. Lena hadn’t wanted to betray her.

“Now, why don’t you three run off to bed?” Mrs. Beakley said. “You’ve had a long night.”

Webby searched her grandmother’s face for duplicity but found nothing. Violet and Lena both said that her grandmother was lying, but Webby couldn’t ascertain why she would be. 

“Wait,” Webby said and pulled away to examine her grandmother’s face closely. It looked the same as always, but Webby found herself consciously looking for hints of her own face in there. She didn’t see any.

“How did you end up raising me, Granny?” Webby said and Lena let out a jagged exhale. The matter was far from finished.

“I found your egg on my doorstep with a note attached,” she said. “Your parents were compromised by FOWL and wanted to protect you, so they sent you to me.”

“Compromised how?” Webby pressed, aware that this was more information than she typically received and that she ought to be grateful for it. She wanted to believe that she wasn’t naive and wouldn’t blindly accept whatever her grandmother told her, but she knew in her heart that she wanted to believe her more than she wanted to accept what Lena had said as fact.

“FOWL agents had found their secret hideout,” Mrs. Beakley explained. “It’s why I’ve trained you to fight against FOWL, because of what FOWL did to your parents.”

“But...Lena said my parents _were_ FOWL…” Webby trailed off.

“They were not,” Mrs. Beakley said and shot Lena an undecipherable look. “Why don’t I tuck you in and we can discuss this more in the morning? It’s already quite late.”

“Yeah, of course,” Webby agreed, perhaps too quickly. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Good,” her grandmother said and looked relieved. She ushered them out and, out of the corner of her eye, she thought her grandmother glared at Lena. It looked like a covert warning, but why would she need to warn her?

* * *

Pepper was back to surveying the potential magical sites. The Phantom Blot, or Blot as she’d started calling him, had located one in the UK. It was also right near SHUSH’s old HQ, which she’d never been to, but she’d heard about. SHUSH was now defunct, whereas FOWL was still around and kicking. Unless they’d gone undercover, so deep that FOWL had no record of it, which she doubted. Scrooge McDuck would’ve known something, surely, as would Agent 22. 

She thought it was amusing that Agent 22 had no idea that Director Buzzard and the others had known where she was the entire time. Or, rather, she _had_ had no idea until the Darkwing Duck fiasco. Mind you, she didn’t know why she’d gone into hiding or thought that she had. There were details that she could ask her, assuming that she’d get her hands on her during a mission. It was unlikely because they seldom traveled with anyone beyond the kids and Scrooge. Possibly Della as the pilot, but Mrs. Beakley usually stayed in the manor. 

Then again, her true target was Webby, so Mrs. Beakley was incidental. Pepper’s curiosity would have to be assuaged another way, at a later date.

“They should strike out at the trident tomorrow night if my calculations are correct,” Bradford informed Pepper and Blot. “That means you have to get a move on. _Now_.”

“Yes, sir!” Pepper said and the Phantom Blot inclined his head. They were seated within FOWL’s subterranean lair and in a boardroom, not unlike the one Scrooge McDuck used. Gathered around them were other FOWL agents likewise receiving their assignments. Steelbeak was antagonizing Black Heron while Gandra Dee scrolled up on her phone without giving anyone the slightest glance. Bradford sighed.

“Go. Now,” Bradford ordered and Pepper and Blot left.

“She should be there,” Blot said once they were out of the room and earshot. “I guarantee it.”

“Do you think she’ll want to talk to me?” Pepper asked, feeling unaccountably shy. “I promise I won’t kill her friends.”

The Phantom Blot rolled his eyes. “She’ll talk to you, one way or another. I’ll force her to.”

Pepper beamed at him and then her smile faltered. “How will you succeed in taking the trident if you’re ensuring I can talk to Webby?”

“It’ll happen,” he said. “There will end up being a fight, one way or another. During the fight, you can speak to her.”

“You don’t think it’s weird, do you, that I’m fixated on her?” Pepper asked and felt the Phantom Blot raise his eyebrows. 

“It’s natural,” he said and then turned, sweeping his cloak, down the hallway. Perplexed, she followed. The hallways here were narrow and barely let two people walk abreast. Any more would have to squish themselves against the wall and wait for them to pass. Eggheads had to do this and gave Pepper a strange look for hanging out with Phantom Blot. They then sidled away, trying to avoid his gaze. It made Pepper step closer to him and put a protective arm around him.

In a weird way, he was hers. She felt possessive over him, if only because he wasn’t worth the disdain that the Eggheads cast his way. As far as she was concerned, the Phantom Blot was doing what he believed in and he exhibited great passion for it. That was a worthy goal, not slacking off as the Eggheads did. One of them was still gnawing on a Rubix cube thanks to Steelbeak’s earlier gaffe.

The lighting overhead was dim too, the lights flickering as they passed. Finally, she arrived at the Phantom Blot’s quarters. He raised his eyebrows again at her and she flushed, getting the hint. She dashed to her room to get ready. She didn’t need to pack much, however. Unlike the Phantom Blot, she didn’t have a lot of equipment.

She was pumped about going on another mission so soon, even if their last one had ended badly. Then again, it’d started the whole Webby fixation, so maybe she ought to be glad about that. She adjusted her head covering in the mirror and flashed herself a grin. Doing the finger-guns to herself in the mirror, she bounced back, finished packing, and went to find Blot. 

“You really have no idea, do you?” the Phantom Blot said once they were reunited. He was carrying a heavy suitcase, though she didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he wore different clothes or carried his glove in there. Then again, maybe he had specific magical devices she couldn’t see. 

“No idea about what?” Pepper asked.

“Who Webby is.”

“What do you mean? I know who she is. She’s Agent 22’s granddaughter.”

“Agent 22 doesn’t have a granddaughter,” he said as they ascended the ramp onto the private airplane. 

“Don’t be silly. Now you’re just not making sense.”

“Agent 22 doesn’t have a granddaughter because she never had a son or daughter,” the Phantom Blot continued, implacable.

“I’m not following.”

He sighed and threw himself into a plush red seat. “Never mind. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

“How could Agent 22 not have a granddaughter when she’s right there?” Pepper pressed, insistent. 

“The same way you could have an egg once and then lose it.”

Chills went through her. She clenched her fingers around the armrest beside him. “How did you know about my egg?”

“You’ve been an Egghead a long time,” he said. “People talk.”

Nonetheless, no matter what line he was trying to draw here, she refused to put the pieces together. It was too outlandish to make sense. She shook her head at him and pulled up the mission details on her phone. She didn’t want to linger on that terrible feeling of loss she’d had when she’d discovered her egg was missing. That someone could have stolen her baby was unthinkable. Better to think that the egg was null than to believe someone could have done something so despicable.

“You’re going to have to face the truth sooner or later,” the Phantom Blot said.

“No, I don’t,” she said. “There’s no truth to face.”

He sighed. “Have it your way.”

“I will,” she said and glanced back at him. The idea was laughable. Webby was the missing egg? Impossible. Yet, if what he was saying was true about Agent 22 not having offspring and then suddenly having a granddaughter...perhaps she’d just not _publicly_ had offspring. Maybe she’d been good at hiding her child/children from FOWL, but she’d failed to protect herself later. 

Yes, that was it. Pepper sighed, relieved that she’d figured it out. That made a lot more sense than his proposal. The pieces didn’t fit quite as neatly, but then again, real life was messy. Messy, just like that missing egg. She felt an ache and turned her face away. Time had dulled the pain on occasion, but now it felt as ripe as it had when she’d first discovered its loss. She wished that she could be alone, but she was stuck on a plane with the Blot.

Perhaps he could sense her need for privacy, however, because he didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. Instead, he let her sink into her thoughts. Pepper appreciated it. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby talks to Dewey, Della, and Louie about Lena's earlier conversation with her. Meanwhile, Pepper and the Phantom Blot take in the sights in Cardiff. A flashback reveals how Agent 22 stumbled upon Webby's egg. Pepper's reaction closes the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure Webby is a year older than the boys, which is important to keep in mind for later.

As predicted, the McDuck/Duck family was en route to the UK for the trident. Webby sat by herself in the back and mulled over what Lena had said. Lena wouldn’t lie to her, which left Webby with the uncomfortable alternative. Fidgeting on the hard wooden bench near the lockers, she startled when a blue blur popped up next to her. Dewey approached; Louie was on his phone up in the front of the plane and Huey was reviewing the JWG and Isabella Finch’s diary for any more information about the trident that they could use.  
  
“Hey, are you okay?” Dewey asked. “You seem kinda...un-Webby-like today. You didn’t do your usual overly enthusiastic hug and kiss with Lena and Violet when they left. And you’ve been sitting by yourself for a while.”  
  
Webby hesitated and then lowered her head as Dewey joined her.  
  
“What is it?” he asked.  
  
“Lena said something that makes no sense,” she admitted. “She said that Granny isn’t my real grandmother and that my parents were really FOWL agents. But Granny would never steal an egg.”  
  
In the cockpit, Scrooge choked and Webby frowned. That was probably just a reaction to Della’s music, which was Powerline again. Dewey must’ve been worried if he wasn’t hanging out with his mom and singing along. She appreciated that he’d come over.  
  
“You did all of that work trying to help us find Mom and figure out what happened to her,” Dewey said, “and you never told us anything about your parents.”  
  
“That’s because Granny never wants to talk about them,” Webby said. “She was acting weird when Lena pressed her, too. Violet said she was lying, but why would she? Why would Granny kidnap an egg?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Dewey said, looking troubled.  
  
“I thought maybe Lena misunderstood her,” Webby said in a rush, feeling nervousness threaten to overtake her. “There’s no way my Granny would do something like that. She’s a good guy. She’s Agent 22 and the best grandmother in the world.”  
  
She loved her grandmother fiercely. After all, for so long, it’d just been them against the world. The worst part, however, was not the anxiety. It was that Dewey was studying her and not refuting what she’d said.  
  
“What?” she asked, looking at him.  
  
“We had no idea what happened to Mom until you started pushing and prodding,” Dewey said quietly. “And even then, I had to force Uncle Scrooge to tell us. It ripped the family apart for a little while, not counting the decade Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge didn’t talk.”  
  
“What are you saying?” she demanded, her voice growing higher in pitch.  
  
“Our family’s not great at telling people the truth,” he said. “You don’t really think Lena lied to you, do you?”  
  
“Lena wouldn’t lie, not again,” Webby said, squirming and clasping her hands in her lap. Dewey put a hand on her arm and she smiled weakly at him. She felt that strange chemistry between them again and ignored it as usual. She had no idea what it meant and didn’t want to know, not if it’d complicate things.  
  
“So, what does that leave?” Dewey asked.  
  
“No,” she said. “No. I don’t believe it. Besides, we don’t have any proof. And we’ll find proof and it’ll turn out that--that--”  
  
“That what?” he coaxed.  
  
Her shoulders slumped. “Granny’s really my grandmother. Maybe she was talking about some other kid who was from FOWL. It can’t have been me.”  
  
“Maybe,” he said, but he sounded far from convinced.  
  
“The alternative is crazy,” she said and shook her head. Tears pricked her eyes and she hated it. The last time she’d cried hard had been after Lena’s death. Then, she’d been alone for it, at least. She’d seldom let the boys see her that vulnerable. She didn’t want to upset them.  
  
“I don’t know,” he said and his gaze roved over the plane. “This family does ‘crazy’ a lot.”  
  
“Yeah, but not with me,” she protested and then shuddered, remembering Scrooge screaming at her that she wasn’t family. She leaned against Dewey; his warmth was reassuring. Despite everything that had happened since then, Scrooge had yet to apologize to Webby for his outburst. And for all that he pretended Webby was an honorary grand-niece, that argument lingered in her mind. The boys didn’t treat her any different, but it was hard to reconcile her idealized version of Scrooge with the real thing sometimes.  
  
“You don’t think Uncle Scrooge knows anything, do you?” she asked Dewey.  
  
“He might, but you might have to walk out on a ledge to get it out of him,” he pointed out. She hadn’t forgotten Dewey’s escapades when the Sunchaser had been marooned on that rock. Dewey could’ve gotten himself killed; he was that desperate for information on Della. The memory twisted her stomach and she squeezed his hand. She was glad he hadn’t died, especially since what he’d done had been reckless. Almost like Della Duck. Like mother, like son.  
  
“Maybe Mom knows something,” Dewey said and she frowned. She both wanted to explore this mystery and leave it be. She was petrified that it’d upset her worldview. She didn’t want to sympathize with FOWL. They were evil, after all. For her entire life, her grandmother had told her that FOWL was the enemy, the proverbial knife in the dark, and a threat to everything they held dear. She’d drilled that fear into her granddaughter and although the idea that her parents might be FOWL was scary, the notion that her grandmother wasn’t really related to her was scarier yet.  
  
“It wouldn’t hurt anything to go ask,” he said and she nodded, allowing him to lead her to the cockpit. Scrooge had hopped down to confer with Huey about Isabella Finch’s journal, which left her, Dewey, and Della alone in the cockpit.  
  
“Hey,” Della said with a convivial smile. “What’s going on, you two?”  
  
Dewey looked at her, but she didn’t know how to ask. She gave him a pointed look; this was, after all, his idea.  
  
“Mom, you wouldn’t happen to know if Uncle Scrooge’s been hiding anything, would you?” he asked.  
  
“Uncle Scrooge is like Fort Knox,” she said, frowning. “You’ll have to be more specific.”  
  
“Like about Webby’s parents,” he elaborated.  
  
“Woah, wait. Where is this coming from?” Della said and shot a quick glance at Webby before returning her gaze to the skies.  
  
“Lena told me that she overheard the adults talking about my parents being FOWL and Granny not being my real grandmother,” Webby said in a rush and grimaced. Her anxiety had returned by saying it aloud again and Dewey took her hand. Louie looked up from his phone and she avoided his gaze, which only made him get up and head over to them. He had a keen intuition when it came to feelings too, which she supposed was natural considering his proclivity toward grifting.  
  
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Louie said, joining them in the cockpit.  
  
“So you don’t think Lena misheard? Or was lying?” Webby said, feeling desperation pound in her chest.  
  
“Lena wouldn’t lie to you,” Louie said. “Not anymore. Not after everything you two have been through together. She didn’t ‘mishear’ anything. Who were the adults? Did she say?”  
  
Webby shook her head.  
  
“It wasn’t me,” Della said. “I can see if I can get anything out of Uncle Scrooge once we land, but I can’t promise you anything. Unfortunately, secrets are a proud family tradition.  
  
“In the meanwhile, Webby, why don’t you sit up here and we can talk?”  
  
Webby took the co-pilot’s seat and Dewey sat beside her. It was a little squished with the two of them, but she didn’t care. She felt horribly vulnerable all of a sudden and didn’t want to be alone, even surrounded as she was by the McDuck/Duck clan. Dewey seemed to sense that, too.  
  
“Did you ask Mrs. B?” Louie asked and popped open a can of Pep that he’d kept stashed away in his hoodie.  
  
“She kinda brushed me off,” Webby admitted. “She said she wasn’t lying--”  
  
“But a good liar will deny and change tactics,” Louie finished. “How did she react to Lena? Maybe your grandmother was one of the people Lena overheard.”  
  
“Maybe,” Webby allowed.  
  
“We’re too high up for you to call her,” Louie said. “I’m barely getting service up here as it is.”  
  
Webby fingered her friendship bracelet and wished she could communicate with Lena telepathically over long distances. It was impossible, she knew, but she couldn’t get service on her phone. She pulled it out, frowned, and put it back in her pocket.  
  
“Do you think Lena was right?” Webby ventured, feeling a cold that Dewey’s warmth couldn’t touch. Now that Lena had introduced the doubts, Webby couldn’t kick them. She’d been happier last night before that conversation. Couldn’t she go back to being blissfully ignorant? That assumed that Lena had heard right.  
  
“Given our family’s track record, yeah, I’d say it is,” Louie said and Della shot him a dirty look.  
  
“Webs, even if it is true, it doesn’t change anything with us,” Louie said. “We’re still your family.”  
  
“But Granny is also my family,” Webby said and then added, quietly, “Isn’t she?”  
  
Dewey and Louie hugged her and she clung to them.  
  
“I’ll get to the bottom of it,” Della promised.  
  
Webby wished that would make her feel better, but she was starting to suspect Lena was right. She still had that chill that physical comfort couldn’t erase. The boys released her and she glanced at Della. She trusted her to do what was right, but what if she sided with the other adults? What if she decided that it was safer to keep the truth from her?  
  
“Hey,” Della said gently, glancing in Webby’s direction again. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. I promise.”  
  
“And if she won’t, we will,” Louie added. “You’re our sister, Webs.”  
  
Webby beamed at him and then tackle-hugged him. They’d been throwing the word “family” around a lot lately, but not specifically “sister”. It gave her a warm feeling in her chest that almost chased away her fear. She belonged to them and they belonged to her. That was all that mattered, right?  
  
She hated that, even after Louie had said what he had, that doubts still lingered about her grandmother. She would cling to what he’d said, all the while full of trepidation about the future.  
  


* * *

  
They’d arrived early, which gave them time to set up. Unfortunately, other than knowing specifically where it might be in the UK, they didn’t have any more specific information. Pepper and the Phantom Blot stood in Cardiff near a Doctor Who store and while Pepper was curious about it and the people surrounding them, Blot kept her away. It’d ruin their cover to be seen in broad daylight, after all.  
  
“I’ve always wanted to go to Cardiff,” Pepper said musingly.  
  
“Why?” the Phantom Blot asked, in the same tone in which you’d ask someone why they’d want to voluntarily go to the DMV or take a trip to the hospital.  
  
“Something to see, I guess.”  
  
“If only we could say that we’ve seen the trident,” he grumbled. “No sign of the brats, either.”  
  
Pepper fidgeted. She’d been afraid of this. If they arrived too early, before a fight, then they might be able to get the trident and leave. However, it’d mean that she wouldn’t see Webby. Their single exchange rang in her head like on loop and it was driving her crazy.  
  
 _“Hi, I’m Pepper!”  
“Hi, Pepper, I’m Webby!”_  
  
How would the next few lines go? _“I’m Pepper...and I think I know you. Or I think I should know you. You might be the egg that I lost. My daughter.”_  
  
Putting the two together made her shiver and she shook it off. Webby wasn’t her daughter. She had no idea what had happened to the egg that she’d lost, but this wasn’t it. She needed to focus on the mission and finding the trident before the kids and Scrooge McDuck did. It shouldn’t be that difficult if only she could get her head back in the game.  
  
Besides, how would Webby react to that? She’d heard otherwise, she knew. _“You’re not my mother. You’re FOWL. You’re evil!”_  
  
“I’m not evil,” Pepper whispered and the Phantom Blot stared at her.  
  
“Are you all right?”  
  
“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?” Pepper blurted out. She laughed nervously. “Not that that has anything to do with our mission. I should focus.”  
  
Blot put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “She’ll talk to you. I’ll make sure. We have more important matters to consider right now, like finding clues as to where that trident is. We should head to the boardwalk and search there.”  
  
He raised his voice. “And _not_ the Doctor Who Experience shop. Come on.”  
  
She followed along, but she wasn’t convinced. If they found the trident too early, this would’ve all been for naught. It would’ve helped FOWL, true, but it wouldn’t have made her feel much better. Her heart felt as if it were wrapped up in Webby’s mystery and she couldn’t shake it.  
  
Webbigail Vanderquack, that was her name. She’d discovered that much on the plane ride over here. Pepper felt oddly possessive over that information. It wasn’t likely that someone would steal it from her, but she clung to it nonetheless. It was a raft in the middle of the ocean. It was a lifeline, though she couldn’t explain it, even to herself.  
  
“You’re much less talkative than usual,” Blot remarked as they searched along the boardwalk.  
  
“Sorry,” she said reflexively.  
  
He turned her to face him. “I swear, you’ll have your chance to talk to her. Even if I have to imprison her to do it or knock her out cold. I will bring her to you.”  
  
She smiled. With another person, that might’ve sounded threatening or ominous, but she found it comforting. The Phantom Blot had her back. She hugged him and, to her surprise, he hugged her back, albeit not as strong as she’d latched onto him.  
  
The embrace was short and he stepped back. “They’ll be here soon enough. I can’t believe I’m asking this...but would you like to stall?”  
  
“Until they get here?” she asked and he nodded.  
  
“You know, I’ve always wanted to try fish and chips,” she mused.  
  
“All right. I’ll treat you,” he said. It occurred to her that she’d never seen him eat. He might need to take off his strange getup for that. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest thinking about it and she wasn’t sure why. She felt a strange connection to him, a link that could not be denied.  
  
“But it’s not a date,” he warned.  
  
“I didn’t think that it was,” she said and he blushed.  
  
“Then, never mind then,” he said.  
  
They headed for the nearest fish and chips restaurant and Pepper kept her eyes out, not for the trident, but for the kids.

* * *

  
  
 _Over a decade ago…_  
  
Agent 22 normally didn’t linger in FOWL hideouts. For one thing, there tended to be explosions, and people trying to murder her. For another, she was occasionally chasing after her rogue partner, Scrooge McDuck. So when she found an egg in a room by itself, she didn’t know, at first, what to do about it. It was just lying there, swaddled in blankets, and its mother was nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Agent 22!” Scrooge snapped and Mrs. Beakley ignored him to slink into the room. It was a spartan bedroom, with only a few costume changes and Egghead paraphernalia to let her know it belonged to a FOWL agent. A FOWL agent with a child?  
  
Around her were explosions and the walls were shaking. She knew time was of the essence, but she couldn’t rip her gaze from the egg. It was viable, judging by the heat lamp and the blankets. The Egghead whose room this was must have laid it.  
  
Could she leave a child to be raised in villainy? What if its parents were abusive and hurt the child? What if they subjected it to worse depredations that Agent 22 didn’t want to contemplate right now. She scooped the egg up just as Scrooge entered the room.  
  
“What is taking so blasted long?” he demanded and then saw her with the egg. “Agent 22?”  
  
“I can’t just leave it here,” she protested. “I can’t let someone from FOWL raise it. Besides, if it belonged to someone, why aren’t they here to protect it?”  
  
“The building’s coming down on our heads and you’re worried about—-“ he stopped. “All right, fine. But we cannae delay any longer. Let’s go.”  
  
“Agreed,” she said and clutched the egg tighter. It was twitching in her arms; it must’ve been close to hatching. She felt guilty about taking the egg, but she didn’t trust it here. Plus, the mother might have bailed, leaving the child to fend for itself. It would perish if Bentina didn’t take it.  
  
They dashed toward the exit and then to the waiting helicopter outside. Bentina saw an Egghead rush from outside back in and her heart lurched.  
  
“You don’t think—?” She hadn’t had a good enough look at the Egghead to tell. But who else would run into a burning building that was also exploding? She felt like she ought to give the egg back, but she had no proof the Egghead was even its mother. What if she gave it to the wrong person and they destroyed it? She couldn’t risk it.  
  
“We donnae have time,” he snapped and she climbed into the helicopter with the egg and Scrooge right behind her.  
  
“To McDuck Manor,” he ordered and the pilot, a man with a pelican beak, nodded. It wasn’t Della Duck; she was off questing in League of Legends or whatever that game was called. Uneasy, Mrs. Beakley buckled herself and the egg in. She could almost feel the hatchling within and its scrutiny. She hoped that she’d done the right thing.  
  
She couldn’t tell the hatchling who its real parents might be. It’d be devastating. Moreover, she couldn’t tell it that she’d snatched its egg. No, she would have to raise it in ignorance and teach it to defend itself against FOWL, especially if it ended up under attack due to its closeness to her.  
  
“Ye did the right thing,” Scrooge assured her.  
  
She touched the eggshell. She had always wanted a child, though she’d never put herself in a situation where that was possible.  
  
“Don’t hate me, dear one,” she whispered to the egg.  
  
“Why should it hate you?” Scrooge asked. “Ye’re giving it a home and a loving family. It won’t be in FOWL’s clutches.”  
  
The helicopter zipped away and she kept her hand on the eggshell. He was right. Of course, he was right. So why did she feel so damned guilty?  
  


* * *

  
  
Pepper fell to her knees and wailed, hugging herself tightly. The egg was gone. She didn’t know what had happened to it, though she could’ve sworn that it was viable. She’d been treating it as if it had been.  
  
Black Heron stood behind her and scoffed. She’d never had any sentimentality toward children and Pepper’s behavior vexed her. She kicked the Egghead in the back.  
  
“Get up,” she ordered. “We have to talk to Bradford and sort this mess out. There’s no time to cry.”  
  
“My egg,” Pepper whispered. “It’s gone.”  
  
Black Heron hauled her to her feet roughly. “Never mind that. We have bigger problems.”  
  
Pepper gazed at her with haunted eyes. It felt like someone had ripped a hole in her chest and torn out her still-beating heart only to trample it underfoot. She couldn’t remember being in such agony ever before, not even when she’d been laying the egg. She wanted to curl into a ball around her pain and weep. Maybe fall asleep and not wake up for a long time.  
  
“Stop moping and come on!” Black Heron snapped and slapped her across the face. “It’s just an egg.”  
  
 _No,_ Pepper thought weakly, _it was my baby._  
  
She let Black Heron haul her off, but no matter how much Heron yelled at her or smacked her around, Pepper couldn’t get herself under control. She felt bereft, empty inside. Was this what it felt like to lose a child?  
  
How could anyone endure it?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper and Webby meet again; Della is protective over her children (all four of them). Webby has fresh doubts about her grandmother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Several notes. One, I adore Doctor Who. Can you tell? Two, I wish I’d heard the theory that Pepper is actually Beakley’s daughter before I’d committed to this plot. Too late to remedy that now. 
> 
> Three, I wrote this coming out of NaNoWriMo, where I usually have writer's block after the month is over, so I struggled with this. Hopefully, it's all right.

The trident, it turned out, was in a museum under heavy security. Pepper and the Phantom Blot stared at it. It was right next to a prop from Doctor Who, a reproduction of K-9. At first, Pepper had been preoccupied with the robotic canine, but the Blot had dragged her away. They’d have to return after dark when hopefully security would be laxer. Security wasn’t supernatural here, which meant sneaking around, which would be more difficult than it’d been wandering around the McDuck ancestral home.

As they wandered around, talking strategy, Pepper’s gaze drifted over again and her heart leaped. 

“It’s Webby!” she squeaked. “Maybe I could come over there and talk to her--”

“We’re not here for her,” he reminded her, though his tone was gentle, not reproving. “We’re here for the trident, remember? She’s ancillary.”

“But you promised me,” Pepper said and pouted. He sighed. 

“If you want to talk to her, you’re going to need to change,” he pointed out. “People assume we’re cosplayers, but she’ll know who we are off the bat. We’ll lose the element of surprise.”

Pepper frowned, shifting from one foot to another. She removed her helmet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He groaned. “You’re going through with this? Now? We’re going to lose the trident. Wait.”

“But…” Pepper groaned too, watching Webby and the boys wend their way through the crowd. She yearned for a chance to have a decent conversation with her. Turning her gaze upon the Phantom Blot, she gave him her best puppy dog eyes. 

He huffed. “Approach her if you want, but do it without the uniform.”

“Thanks!” she said and pecked him on the cheek. He flushed; she couldn’t see it, but she could feel the heat coming off his hood. That was cute. 

Now, without the hat and wearing a dark blue dress, Pepper approached the triplets and Webby. Scrooge was explaining something boring and Pepper rolled her eyes, keeping within earshot but trying to stay out of the line of sight until she had a more concrete plan. Maybe she could bluff her way through a conversation and gain her attention that way.

They approached K-9 beside the trident and Pepper’s heartbeat picked up. As it happened, she knew something about K-9, but she didn’t know if Webby was a Doctor Who fanatic. It seemed more likely to be Huey’s forte, from what intel she’d obtained about the kids. Louie definitely wasn’t interested--he was staring at his phone and oblivious to anything around him.

Dewey also looked bored and he tugged Webby away, toward a replica of King Arthur’s sword. Webby allowed herself to be steered off and Pepper suppressed a groan as she followed them. She didn’t know that much about Arthurian lore. She’d have to wing it and hope for the best. 

She approached them again at the sword and noted that isolating Webby would be easier now that two out of the three boys were across the hall. Plus, the adults remained with them; it wasn’t that Pepper had designs beyond speaking with Webby, but this was helpful. Her heart pounded.

“Think I could swing it?” Dewey asked.

“It looks a little heavy for you,” Webby said and frowned. 

“Could  _ you  _ swing a sword like that?” Pepper asked and Webby turned, startled. She didn’t have the instinctive suspicion that a trained FOWL agent would have had. Though she had placed her feet deliberately in case there was a fight, nothing in her countenance suggested wariness or hostility. Her expression was open and warm, albeit puzzled that a random adult was talking to her. 

“Probably,” Webby answered. 

“I should introduce myself,” Pepper said. “My name is…”

She hesitated. If she said she was Pepper, then Webby would know that she was a FOWL agent. That would blow their cover. She used her middle name instead.

“Paprika,” she said. Webby frowned, her beak pressed down, but she didn’t push her for more details.

“I’m Webby,” Webby said brightly and Pepper’s chest warmed with pleasure. This was it. She was doing it. She was talking to her--she was having an actual conversation with Webbigail Vanderquack. Oh, she was so excited, she could jump around. 

A hand landed on her shoulder and Pepper whirled, startled. The man who had placed his hand on her shoulder looked familiar, but he wasn’t wearing his hood or robes. Yet when he spoke, she recognized him immediately. 

He was a duck with scarred features; his beak was almost cut in half by what looked like a serrated blade. Pepper didn’t gawk; she knew better. Nonetheless, she was filled immediately with indignation that someone had hurt him that badly. 

“Don’t you think we ought to be getting back to the exhibit, Paprika?” the Phantom Blot asked and Webby frowned.

“Your voices sound familiar,” Webby observed.

“You told me that I could talk to her---” Pepper began in an angry undertone. “You  _ promised _ , Blot.”

“Blot?” Dewey repeated and Pepper felt the Phantom Blot’s ire rake her. This was her fault. She shouldn’t have let his nickname slip. She ought to know better. Maybe this was why she was only an Egghead and had never risen in the ranks. Sometimes, she was just awful with secrets.

Webby studied the two of them. “It doesn’t  _ look  _ like the Phantom Blot, Dewey.”

A tightness in Pepper’s chest eased. She wasn’t suspicious; she had no reason to be. In her life, no one had ever betrayed her or pretended to be other than they were. Well, except for her grandmother and, as far as Pepper knew, no one had ever called Agent 22 out on it. 

Was Agent 22 the one who had stolen her egg? The Phantom Blot seemed to think so, though he had no proof so far as she could tell. Nonetheless, her heart thudded painfully.

“But...do I know you?” Webby asked Pepper. 

A sudden and horrible truth settled upon Pepper. Agent 22 might be the one who had kidnapped her egg. Webby might be her daughter. Yes, Webby  _ should  _ know her, because Pepper was her mother. That she didn’t ought to be criminal. But she had no proof. Nonetheless, the implications swirled around her. Her chest ached and she fought a sudden urge to embrace Webby. 

“No,” Pepper said in a small voice. She had no reason to know her.

It seemed that Webby was a perceptive child. She cocked her head at Pepper and asked, “Are you okay?”

She wanted to ask if Webby remembered anything from when she’d been a hatchling, but that was too far in the past. She wanted to ask if Webby knew about her parents, but this was neither the place nor the time. Instead, Pepper smiled weakly and it hurt like everything else. Talking to her in a public place was all she could manage and it was not enough. 

“Tonight,” the Phantom Blot murmured in her ear. “Fewer witnesses.”

She wondered where he’d stashed the gauntlet and his hood. 

There were too many questions swirling around in Pepper’s mind and no way to vocalize them without blowing her cover. 

“ _ Tonight _ ,” Blot said, more insistent this time, and tugged her away. Pepper planted her feet. 

“Were you trained in swordplay?” Pepper asked and Blot groaned. 

“My grandma,” Webby explained. She frowned. “You still seem so familiar to me. Are you sure we haven’t met before?”   
  


“Do you remember me?” Pepper asked.

Webby’s frown deepened. Dewey was watching intently and Pepper wished that the blue triplet would wander off elsewhere. His attention was unnerving and he seemed liable to haul her off. Then again, the Phantom Blot was thisclose to doing that to Pepper. The similarities in their relationships were a little off-putting.

“I don’t know,” Webby said and Pepper’s spirits sank.

“Oy, Webbigail!” Scrooge called. “Dewey!”

“I’ve gotta go,” Webby said, and then, without further adieu, the kids trotted back to the others. Pepper turned to the Blot, who had to have removed his hood and cloak to prevent being identifiable. While ordinarily she might’ve been touched by his effort, she was crushed that Webby didn’t remember her. True, it’d only been a chance encounter in Dismal Downs and she had no reason to recall her. But it meant that the meeting which had been so crucial to Pepper was nothing to Webby. 

Pepper’s beak quivered and she swiped at her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, especially not in public. Eggheads did not display emotions like fear or misery, not the weak ones. Eyes stinging, she watched Webby rejoin the boys.

“You got your conversation,” the Blot said gently.

“It’s not enough,” Pepper said, swallowing back tears. She forced a smile. “This is probably stupid anyway. She’s not the egg I lost and I’m just chasing after a random kid. I’m being stupid. Let’s focus on our plans for tonight.”

Webby had no reason to suspect Pepper to be anything other than a complete stranger. Pepper allowed the Blot to push her back into the crowd, but for once, she couldn’t pretend that she was happy about it. The hollowness that she’d felt after losing her egg gnawed at her again and it made it difficult indeed to care about anything else.

* * *

Webby didn’t understand why the woman had looked so crushed when she’d said that she didn’t remember her. Was she supposed to? Paprika, if that was her real name, seemed to think that she should. The name tugged at Webby’s mind, but it didn’t ring a bell. Maybe if it were a different type of spice or a different name starting with a “P”, it’d have significance for her.

Scrooge was trying to convince the museum owner to hand them the trident for a modest fee. Since Scrooge was a notorious tightwad, his sums kept getting rejected. The others seemed annoyed, except for Louie who wasn’t paying much attention, but Webby didn’t know what to think. She’d lost the woman and her companion in the crowd and it wasn’t from lack of trying.

The owner said he’d discuss it more tonight over dinner. In the meanwhile, the others should keep an eye on the trident. The owner didn’t think anyone would happen to it when the museum closed up shop for the night, but Webby was less certain. It was a notorious magical artifact. Someone from FOWL would be after it.

FOWL. The Phantom Blot, specifically. They’d have to be on their guard. She wished that they’d taken Lena and Violet with them, but they hadn’t had enough time to plan it out further. Lena and Violet had come along before by accident.

She thought she caught a glimpse of the woman once more before they left, but she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure why it should matter so much, either, except that it did. It also appeared that the woman was crying and wiping away her tears, but that didn’t make sense. Had Webby upset her so much?

Disquieted both by the chance encounter and by her grandmother’s earlier evasion, Webby was quiet on the way back to the plane to regroup. She didn’t know what to make of everything or whether she was overthinking it. The latter seemed likely. When she’d been in the manor as a younger child, she’d never liked to dwell on anything, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

“We’re not going to steal it if you can’t come to an agreement, are we?” Della asked, sounding exasperated.

“Of course not!” Scrooge huffed. He just hated making bad bargains and this, to Webby’s eyes, appeared like a bad deal. She ought to be more excited to see the famous Scrooge McDuck at work during a business dealing and fangirl over that like she did so much else. 

Yet the woman still haunted her. She pushed it to the back of her mind. At least while they were in England, they could enjoy the sights until tonight.

Whatever happened, they needed to get their hands on that trident before FOWL stole it. She thought of her grandmother’s loathing for FOWL and her own training. FOWL as an organization was despicable and a wretched den of villainy. She would never go over to them. Nothing would induce her to do that or show a modicum of sympathy toward them. 

They had chosen their paths and she had chosen hers. After all, her grandmother had said that FOWL had killed her parents. Webby would never forgive FOWL for that, no matter what. 

* * *

After night fell, Pepper was in an odd mood. She wasn’t looking forward to the mission as much as she’d thought that she would. In fact, she wanted it over with as soon as possible. Therefore, she and the Phantom Blot were silent as they swept through the museum; she was quieter than usual. Though the Phantom Blot didn’t comment on her silence, he cast worried glances her way once in a while. 

As the Phantom Blot had reported, Scrooge McDuck and the museum owner had not come to an agreement by the time the museum closed. It was nine o’clock and the sky was pitch black--the new moon made it easier to sneak about undetected. It also meant that she had to trust Blot's sense of direction and movement because she wasn’t as skilled at subterfuge.

Through the skylight, she saw the trident. The Phantom Blot’s current plan was not to possess the trident but to drain all of the magic from it. FOWL had no use for a trident, after all. Besides which, the kids could have it if they wanted it, once it was no longer powerful. Blot had explained all of this to her in undertones; though they remained unnoticed, he didn’t want to take any chances.

The Phantom Blot had cut a hole in the skylight through which he could use the gauntlet to drain the magic out. Pepper had nothing to do but keep an eye out for trouble and ensure that no one would interrupt him. She didn’t know where the kids and Della had gone--she’d assumed they’d be with Scrooge, but she wasn’t positive. 

“You really think they’d break in with all of these guards around?” Dewey asked, skeptical, from the entrance a couple of hundred feet to their south. Pepper straightened, listening intently. She didn’t signal the Phantom Blot, not yet. She wanted to see how this played out first.

“They’re FOWL,” Webby said. “Their dastardly deeds know no end.”

Heh, that was kind of cute. It made them sound like cartoon villains. Pepper smiled despite herself. She fought the temptation to rappel down and say hello to Webby in person. The time would come--she needed to be patient. Pepper hopped from one foot to another, sadly short on patience right now.

“We don’t need to break-in,” the Phantom Blot scoffed, audible only to her. “Not that I’d expect them to understand.”

Pepper found herself thinking about what he’d looked like without the hood. She could understand his being self-conscious about his appearance and she cherished that he’d thought enough of her plan not to be suspicious-looking. Now, however, he showed no signs of taking the hood off.

The kids stepped into the museum with Della keeping a lookout. Pepper studied her too. She knew that she’d nearly driven McDuck Enterprises to bankruptcy trying to find his missing niece. The Buzzards thought she was feckless and immature. Nonetheless, she seemed protective over the ducklings and walked in their midst while scanning the shadows for danger. Of course, no one ever thought to look up.

“Almost...got it…” Blot murmured and then cursed quietly when the glass fell out of the hole he’d made. He couldn’t get his gauntleted hand in through the gap to grab it in time and it shattered on the floor.  _ That  _ was enough to make them look up. Thankfully, by that time, he’d secured their escape means and fixed the rope to an anchor on the roof. It retracted, an effective use of the money that the Buzzards had funneled out of McDuck Enterprises. 

“The Phantom Blot!” Webby snapped.

“So much for being quiet,” Pepper teased and he huffed, smashing the rest of the skylight and jumping down into the museum with her tucked under his arm. He landed well, probably having had practice in martial arts. Webby formed an offensive stance counter to his and Dewey, beside her, did likewise. Louie had tucked his phone away and Huey narrowed his eyes.

“You’re Pepper, aren’t you?” Webby said, gazing at Pepper and she grinned, pleased that she’d remembered. Maybe it was the outfit. 

The Phantom Blot scoffed, ignoring this byplay, and aimed his gauntlet at the trident. “Never mind the pleasantries.”

Webby aimed a kick at the Phantom Blot and this time, he was ready. He snatched her out of the air and threw her across the room. The twelve-year-old girl corrected herself as she fell and landed on her feet; she was as nimble as a cat.

“You’ve been well trained by Agent 22,” Blot said and for a second, confusion flickered across Webby’s face.

“You mean Granny? She taught me to fight people like you!” Webby said, recovering. 

“She’s not your grandmother,” the Phantom Blot scoffed, and again, that flicker of uncertainty flashed across Webby’s face. 

“He’s just trying to confuse you,” Huey said. Nonetheless, Webby faltered. She had the look of someone putting two and two together for the first time and not expecting four.

“How would you know?” Dewey countered.

“Ask her if you don’t believe me,” the Phantom Blot said and turned his gauntlet back on to suck up the magic. Della dashed at him and he spun around, managing to evade her and her mechanical leg.

“Of course I don’t believe you! You’re the villain!” Webby retorted.

“Troubling, isn’t it, when the ‘villain’ tells you the truth and the ‘hero’ lies to your face?” the Phantom Blot retorted. He finished sucking up the magic and grabbed the rope he’d dangled down and anchored to a mooring on top of the building. 

“Shouldn’t we, I don’t know,  _ stop him _ ?” Louie snapped.

Webby shook off her confusion, but it lingered in her eyes. She made one last-ditch effort to tackle the Phantom Blot and knocked him off the rope. Pepper responded by rolling her off Blot and, for a minute, Webby looked into her eyes. There was recognition there and Webby’s eyes widened. Alarmed, the girl sprang off her.

“No, it’s impossible,” Webby said.

“What’s impossible?” Huey said, coming to her side.

Louie was scanning the area; she’d read his file. He took chances and saw the angles. He and his mother exchanged a look and the Phantom Blot tugged on the rope all the while grabbing Pepper by the back of her uniform. Louie lunged for the glass cutter in the Blot’s belt and he kicked him in the stomach.

“No!” Pepper snapped.

“I thought you only cared about Webby,” he scoffed.

“Don’t kick the kids around,” Pepper reprimanded. Before she had a chance to say more, Della kicked Blot in the face.

“And don’t kick  _ my  _ kids,” Della snapped in a tone that indicated she’d wanted to say something rather more vulgar but was refraining thanks to the children.

The Blot growled, lashing out at Della with magic. Della ducked, sweeping him off his feet with a well-placed kick. Pepper had a moment to think of Della being a protective mama bear before she realized that their mission was in jeopardy and that she needed to do something.

Pepper tackled Della and tried to pin her down, but it was like attempting to pin an eel (a metaphor that Della would not have cared for, had she heard it). Della wriggled out from under and then, to Pepper’s surprise, she put Pepper in a headlock.

“How do you know Webby?” she demanded.

“What? I…” Pepper was taken aback and didn’t know how to respond.

“How do you know Webby?” Della demanded. 

The Phantom Blot righted himself behind them and then had to duck aside as the kids removed the trident and charged at him with it. By now, however, the magical transfer was complete. They’d only needed to stall long enough for him to suck all of the magic out. They could leave, but leaving might be prickly right now.

“We met before,” Webby answered, but that wasn’t the answer Della was hoping for, because she wrenched Pepper tighter.

“A one-off? I don’t think so,” Della said, suspicious. “You’ve been following my kid around, haven’t you?”

“ _ Your  _ kid?” Pepper repeated. 

“Yeah, my kid. More mine than yours, lady,” Della said. “She’s mine and they’re mine too. Now, what do you want with Webby?”

A blast of magic took Della in the forehead and sent her flying backward. Pepper scrambled to her feet and gasped, grateful to be able to breathe normally again. 

“Thanks,” she said to Blot. He inclined his head, snagged her by the back of her outfit, and stepped onto the rope. A quick tug brought it shooting up through the skyline they’d destroyed and back onto the roof. Of all the things Pepper had expected at that meeting, Della’s attitude was not one of them.

“Webby’s not hers,” Pepper found herself saying and surprised herself by fuming. “She might’ve been around her for a little while, but that doesn’t mean--”

“We got what we came here for,” he interrupted, albeit gently. “Let’s go back to FOWL before anything untoward happens.”

Movement caught the corner of her eye and she saw, to her shock, that Webby was standing on the roof. She must have parkoured her way up through the skylight. Pepper was impressed. 

“Who are you? Really?” Webby demanded. 

“Why don’t you ask your grandmother the same thing?” the Phantom Blot rejoined. 

She lunged for the Phantom Blot, who blasted her with magic and sent her flying back down. Della caught her and Pepper glowered at Blot.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt her,” he protested. A helicopter was waiting to take them away, at least. Yes, they’d gotten what they wanted and planted seeds of doubts into Webby’s mind, but it hadn’t been all that she’d wanted. They’d have to wait for another heist for that. 

The thought didn’t cheer Pepper as much as she’d hoped it would.

* * *

“Webby?” Huey asked as they trudged back to the  _ Cloudslayer _ . Spirits were low because of their recent failure. It wasn’t often that they lost to FOWL. “Are you okay?”

“Why does everyone keep talking about my granny like that?” Webby burst out. “She’s a good, decent person! She took me in after my parents died!”

“Or did she?” Dewey said quietly and Webby growled.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, holding his hands up in a defensive position.

A small voice whispered in Webby’s mind,  _ Or did she? _

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Beakley finally confesses to a thunderstruck Webby; Webby makes plans for her next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are words? -_- I got this chapter done, but the second half didn’t flow quite as smoothly as the first.

“You sure you want me around for this, pink?” Lena asked, skeptical. She and Violet had arrived not long after Webby had texted them asking for their support. Lena felt guilty about this, even though she had no reason to be. From everything Webby had said, it wasn’t like she’d been the last person to bring up Mrs. Beakley’s questionable link to Webby. Yet Lena had opened the can of worms and unsettled her best friend. She wasn’t certain why Webby wanted her support, in that case, but she would do anything for her.

“I want you,” Webby said simply, and, visibly steeling herself, Webby along with Violet, Lena, and the triplets entered the kitchen. Mrs. Beakley was cooking dinner ( _a dinner full of lies_ , Lena thought bitterly) and it was clear she hadn’t expected being cornered because she did a double-take at all six children in the kitchen.

There was tension in the air that hadn’t been present the first time Webby had asked about her parents and when Mrs. Beakley turned away from the stove, she stiffened. It was the only visible sign she was reacting to the stress, but it was enough. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Mrs. Beakley asked.

“Granny,” Webby said and then faltered. She glanced back at Violet, who inclined her head, and Lena, who attempted a mangled smile that probably looked more like a grimace. 

“Granny, what really happened to my parents?” 

“I told you, dear,” Mrs. Beakley said, though she looked uneasy at saying this in front of all of them, “FOWL attacked them and they left you in my care.”

“That’s not what you said before,” Lena grumbled and Mrs. Beakley glowered. Lena folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t intimidated, not when she had magic on her side. 

“The Phantom Blot said that you were lying,” Webby continued. “How would he know something like that?”

Mrs. Beakley faltered. Lena could see she was making up her mind whether to stick to her guns or to tell the truth. Lena knew that she didn’t want to hurt Webby, especially since this con had been going on a long time, but she also had to see that continuing to withhold the truth would have dire consequences. Mrs. Beakley sighed, shoulders slumping, and gestured for them to follow her to the dining room, where there would be room for all seven of them. They trooped into the dining room after her. 

“He doesn’t, not for certain,” Mrs. Beakley said, taking a seat at the head of the table. “This would have been before his time.”

“I don’t understand,” Webby said. She looked adorable and about five seconds from having her heart brutally torn in half. Lena sat on one side of Webby and Dewey on the other. Her best friend and, well, whatever Dewey was to her. Lena knew they were closer than friends, but not quite on the sibling vibe she got from Webby and the other two. That reminded her--she was quite glad that Webby’s harmonizing thing with Dewey was over. It’d been very annoying.

“What are you saying, Granny?” 

“Your parents weren’t killed by FOWL, Webby. They _were_ FOWL.”

Webby had heard it from Lena, a different version from the Phantom Blot, and yet, hearing it from Mrs. Beakley was altogether different. She shrank in her chair and when she spoke, her voice trembled. Tears pricked her eyes. 

“They weren’t. You told me for years and years that they were attacked by FOWL. You said that was the whole reason we had to fight them,” Webby said. “That I had to learn how to defend myself against FOWL so the same thing wouldn’t happen to me too, that they’d come after me because of my parents.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Mrs. Beakley said quietly, looking older than she had five minutes ago. “They _would_ come after you because of your parents.”

Webby was struggling to put a cap on her emotions and keep from becoming a mess. Her beak quivered and Dewey and Lena grabbed her hands. Lena saw the lump in Webby’s throat and wanted to hate Mrs. Beakley at that moment, but she was too concerned about her best friend. The last time she’d seen Webby this overwrought, it’d been right after her “death”. Terrible memories threatened to crowd in and she couldn’t let them overwhelm her. Now wasn’t the time to ruminate on all of those months stuck in the shadow realm.

“How much of what you told me was true, Granny? Or should I even call you that?” Webby asked and her voice was tiny now, scarcely audible. Huey, Louie, and Violet got up from their seats to form a protective circle about Webby. 

“Please, sit down,” Mrs. Beakley beseeched.

“Tell the truth,” Louie growled. He looked surprised to be giving her orders, but he didn’t back down. 

“About twelve years ago,” Mrs. Beakley said and gazed at Webby and only her, “Mr. McDuck and I were on a mission for FOWL when the base was about to explode. We had to flee in a hurry and, as we were leaving, I saw your egg. I knew it wasn’t right, that it wasn’t mine, but I couldn’t take the chance that someone from FOWL would raise you to evil. Or even let you hatch at all. The fire might also incinerate you before you even hatched.”

“So you stole her,” Huey said quietly, stunned. 

“It was my only option--I couldn’t take the chance that your egg, _you_ , would perish in the flames.”

If Webby hadn’t been sitting down, she would have fallen down. Her beak quivered again and she gripped Dewey’s and Lena’s hands hard. Lena couldn’t feel her right hand, but that was okay. She was far too concerned to let a little thing like that stop her.

“So, you stole me,” Webby echoed. “You stole me from my rightful parents. Do you even know who they are?”

Mrs. Beakley shook her head. “I _saved_ you, Webbigail. You might have died.”

“Or my mom could’ve come in and rescued me,” Webby retorted. “You don’t know. You don’t know…”

She crumpled, looking so small in her chair; as if she wanted to return to her hatchling form. Her eyes shone with tears. “If you’re not my grandmother, then who are you?”

“I’m still your grandmother, dear.”

“Liar!” Webby said. She was shaking now. “I can’t believe that you’ve been lying to me my whole life. You’re not my grandmother. You’re not...anyone, are you? You’re just a random SHUSH agent who found my egg and stole it.”

“Darling, I--”

“I’m going to my room if it’s even mine,” Webby said. Lena might’ve thought she was being overly dramatic (or had taken drama lessons from Dewey), if not for recognizing the signs that Webby was dangerously close to losing it. She released Lena’s and Dewey’s hands (Dewey massaged feeling back into his) and then darted to the doorway. She seemed to be waiting for something to fix this.

The weight of Mrs. Beakley’s betrayal was like a boulder upon her chest. Lena could only imagine how bad it felt for Webby. 

“Everything I did, I did to protect you,” Mrs. Beakley said quietly. “I saved you from FOWL and brought you up here, where you’d be safe and secure.”

“You mean you kept me a prisoner for over a decade, stole me from my real parents, and you’re supposed to be the good guy?” Webby said. Tears streaked her cheeks. “The Phantom Blot was right. You’re not a hero.”

Webby left the room, but she didn’t make it far before the kids dogpiled on her in a sitting room. Lena knew Webby didn’t like to be seen so miserable, especially not in front of the boys, but her world was crumbling. Everything she’d ever known was now confirmed to be a lie.

“You don’t think Uncle Scrooge knew about this, do you?” Huey said quietly once Webby had latched onto Lena and was sobbing quietly like her heart was broken. For all Lena knew, it was. Lena wrapped her arms around her and nuzzled her.

“Sssh, it’s okay, pink. I’m here,” Lena murmured into her hair.

“It’s highly likely that he did,” Violet said and the words fell heavily upon the room. 

“You think he was complicit?” Huey asked and Violet nodded. 

Lena cursed softly. It wasn’t just Mrs. Beakley, then. Scrooge had been lying for her entire life too. Lena stroked Webby’s hair, but it didn’t seem to be having much of an effect. She didn’t know if anything would. 

Everyone’s the hero of their own story. Mrs. Beakley had rewritten what she’d done so that she could feel better about herself. Meanwhile, Webby might never know who her parents were, except that they were FOWL. FOWL, whom she’d been training and fighting against her whole life. FOWL, who wasn’t looking quite so evil anymore, not by comparison.

“We should talk to Uncle Scrooge,” Dewey said. “Right, Webby?”

Webby turned to look at him. Her eyes were lined with red and, apparently not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head. 

“Maybe not right now,” Dewey amended. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Webby said in a small voice. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“That’s easy. You’re Webby,” Dewey replied and she shook her head again.

“Am I, Dewey? If my whole life is a lie, then isn’t my name one too?” She fell silent again. In a way, this was more insidious than what Aunt Magica had done to Lena. Mrs. Beakley had told herself she meant well, but if she had truly meant well, she would have come clean earlier. To keep perpetuating the lie had only led to this. Her sweater was getting wet.

“Who am I?” Webby murmured into Lena’s sweater. The younger duckling clenched her eyes shut as if she could deny reality. “Who?”

* * *

She had to get a message to the Phantom Blot and Pepper. The only problem was that she didn’t know how to. She wasn’t about to orchestrate a crime and get FOWL’s attention that way, besides the fact that it probably wouldn’t work. Or it’d bring the wrong agents, like Black Heron and Steelbeak. No, the Phantom Blot knew something and she would find out what. Webby was determined on that front, once she’d gotten herself under control.

“You’re sure Mrs. B doesn’t know who your parents are?” Dewey asked for what felt like the hundredth time. She shook her head. 

“She said she took my egg from FOWL HQ before it was about to blow,” she said and grimaced. Thus far, her ‘grandmother’ hadn’t tried to talk to her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before Mrs. Beakley returned for another unpleasant conversation. Webby had tried avoiding the rest of the manor, but she’d gotten hungry, so they’d raided the fridge.

Perhaps her so-called grandmother was making herself scarce. Webby didn’t know how she felt about that. Was a family the one who raised you or who you were biologically related to? Could she consider Mrs. Beakley her grandmother because she’d raised her that way? Or was this unknown FOWL agent her parent? How could she consider Mrs. Beakley her grandmother when she’d abducted her egg?

“I have an idea on how to bring the Phantom Blot here, but you’re not gonna like it, pink,” Lena warned. Ever since the revelations, aside from bringing food, none of the kids had left Webby’s side. 

“Does it involve using you as bait?” Violet queried, throwing her sister a sharp look. “Because we’ve had this discussion before, Lena.”

Webby blinked. There was some subtext here she wasn’t getting.

“I’m not going to get hurt,” Lena protested. “Geez, Vi, you act like I’m throwing myself into danger on purpose.”

“By proposing to make yourself bait, you’re doing exactly that,” Violet rejoined. 

Dewey looked between the two Sabrewings like someone watching a tennis match. “I’m missing something.”

Violet opened her mouth and Lena growled, glowering at her.

“Don’t you dare,” Lena warned.

“Don’t I dare what?” Violet said. Despite her calm tone, she looked angry. Her fists were balled and she glared back. “I was unaware this was a great secret.”

“You know I told you not to tell her,” Lena growled.

“Not to tell me what?” Webby said. “Lena, I’m not asking you to be the bait. I’ll figure out another way to lure the Phantom Blot here. You don’t have to put yourself in danger.”

She placed a hand on Lena’s shoulder. Violet and Lena shot daggers at each other with their eyes. At a loss, Webby glanced at the boys to see if they knew what was going on. Of the trio, only Louie looked like he knew, but he wasn’t going to say. Well, that was frustrating. Then again, Louie often withheld information to use it at a pivotal time later.

“I wouldn’t be in any real danger,” Lena scoffed. “I can protect myself, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“That’s not the problem at hand,” Violet countered. Webby still didn’t know what was going on, but the argument was growing contentious. She didn’t like to see her two best friends fighting. She stepped in between them and Lena sighed, averting her gaze.

“Violet has this stupid idea that I’d go in and get myself hurt on purpose,” Lena explained. “As a way to punish me for getting you into this mess.”

A shocked silence followed her words. Webby shook her head in disbelief. “You’d never do that.”

Lena smiled weakly. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, pink.”

Webby was aghast. “But it’s not like you _want_ to do it.”

She rounded on Violet. “Why would you think that she would?”

“Lena has shown at times a desire to punish herself for things which are not her fault,” Violet said quietly. “You were merely the messenger, Lena. And you need to stop excoriating yourself.”

“I’m _fine_ , nerd,” Lena said, growing defensive. “And I’m not the one who needs help here.”

“What if we took one of Uncle Scrooge’s artifacts out of the Bin?” Dewey suggested. “Then Lena wouldn’t have to risk herself and it’d be magic, so the Phantom Blot would be interested.”

“Wouldn’t Uncle Scrooge know it was missing?” Huey objected.

“One, I nick stuff from there all the time and he never notices, and two, he was keeping this from Webby too,” Louie pointed out. “How could he not be involved? Someone you’ve known all your life shows up on your doorstep with a duckling and you know they didn’t have kids before?”

“I don’t know how much Granny told him about her personal life,” Webby pointed out and then winced. Force of habit.

“It’s better than Lena risking her neck,” Louie argued.

“Fine, we can go with that,” Lena said, though she looked disgruntled at the concession. Webby was still hung up on the idea that Lena would want to hurt herself on purpose. That seemed to be what Violet was implying. No one would want to harm themselves on purpose, only by accident, right? Uncertain now, Webby gazed at her best friend.

“There’s nothing you’re not telling me, is there?” Webby asked Lena.

“I’m fine,” Lena said and then sighed. “Look, pink. The damage that Aunt Magica did--just because I have my own powers now and I’m not her shadow anymore doesn’t mean the abuse just fades away. So I’m a little messed up still. It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Webby objected, her current predicament wiped out of her mind by Lena’s problems. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, Webs, you have your own problems,” Louie said.

“I know, but…” Webby gazed at Lena with huge eyes and Lena put her hands on her shoulders. 

“I’ll be all right eventually,” Lena promised. “Why don’t we just focus on getting the Phantom Blot and Pepper here so you can talk to them again?”

Webby nodded. “But we still need to talk.”

“Your--well, whatever she is--tried to talk to me once about it and I blew her off,” Lena admitted. “Pink, she means well. I know she does.”

“Yeah, well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Webby muttered, uncharacteristically dark. She felt like she had when she’d been hunting for the Harp of Mervana. Except instead of ennui, she felt her mood blackening. 

Those closest to her, who heard her, exchanged alarmed looks. Webby pretended not to notice. Then her shoulders sagged. The boys didn’t know who their father was, as far as Webby knew. And Violet never discussed her biological mother. Then there was Lena and her sordid past. It wasn’t like they didn’t all have family problems.

“Let’s Dewey this,” Webby said, attempting to bolster herself. 

“Hey,” Dewey objected with a smile. “That’s my line.”

“Unfortunately,” Louie said.

“Are you going to be okay?” Huey asked, searching her expression for signs of discontent and upset. Webby couldn’t muster any good cheer for him. The best she could manage now was neutral. 

If FOWL was so bad, then why had SHUSH sanctioned Agent 22 stealing Webby’s egg? Were they as opposed as they’d seemed? Webby didn’t know, but she intended to find out. Talking to the Phantom Blot and Pepper was the first step.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still struggling with writer's block. :(
> 
> I rewatched The Phantom and the Sorceress after writing this and noticed something curious. Pepper's in there for, like, half a second, and she's listed as Pepper in the credits. Even though she wasn't named in that ep. 
> 
> I'll need to rewatch The Fight for Castle McDuck soon.

Webby didn’t come down for dinner. The situation was tense and Della couldn’t help but notice how none of her kids were looking at Mrs. Beakley or Scrooge. Violet and Lena were also nowhere to be seen and Della didn’t know whether they were with Webby or had gone home. Donald was absent, but Della at least knew where he was--he and Daisy had a date. 

“All right, what’s gotten into ye?” Scrooge asked before Della had a chance. “And where’s Webbigail?”

“She’s in her room,” Dewey said, sounding sullen. 

“Not feeling well?” Scrooge asked, frowning, and looking concerned. 

“How could you keep this from her?” Huey demanded, jumping to his feet and confusing the adults except for Mrs. Beakley, who averted her gaze. Whatever this involved, she was neck-deep in it. Della frowned too.

“I’m sorry, what?” Scrooge asked and then looked over at Mrs. Beakley. “Beakley? What is this?”

Mrs. Beakley sighed, looking discomfited. “I suppose that it had to come out eventually.”

“What had to come out?” Della asked. “Why are the kids all fired up?”

“A little over twelve years ago, Mr. McDuck and I acquired an egg from a FOWL lair. The lair was about to explode and I feared the worst for the egg, so I took it,” Mrs. Beakley said. She wasn’t looking at anyone, but rather, staring straight at the wall. 

If Della had been standing, she would have fallen back into her chair. She looked at the triplets, all of whom were angry on Webby’s behalf. 

“You didn’t tell the truth,” Della said. 

“She told her that FOWL agents killed her parents, not that they _were_ her parents,” Dewey said hotly. “Not that she kidnapped Webby from her rightful parents!”

“Her parents were FOWL agents,” Mrs. Beakley said, but rather than being defensive, she sounded drained. “I thought the egg would be safer with me than with them.”

“But you had no way of knowing that!” Huey countered. 

“You knew that Webby wasn’t Mrs. Beakley’s granddaughter for over a decade,” Louie said, rounding on Scrooge. “What is with this family and keeping secrets?”

“I dinnae want this to happen!” Scrooge said. “I thought, eventually, we’d tell her the truth. How did she find out?”

“Why does it matter?” Huey retorted. 

“I thought we were supposed to be the good guys,” Dewey added. “How are we any better than FOWL? I mean, yeah, FOWL tried to destroy the space-time continuum in St. Canard, but they didn’t kidnap a kid and lie to them for twelve plus years.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing!” Mrs. Beakley protested. “Who knows what her parents would’ve been like?”

“Is that really what you think?” Louie threw back at her. “Or is it what you tell yourself so that you can sleep at night?”

“Enough!” Scrooge snapped. 

“No, Uncle Scrooge,” Della said. “They’ve got a good point. Why _have_ you been keeping secrets from the kids for all of this time? I know how the kids found out what happened to me and it wasn’t because they could just ask their uncle. You kept it from them. 

“And you did the same thing to Webby.”

“FOWL would have used her for their own ends!” Scrooge protested. Della glowered at him.

“Really? Because it seems like you did the same thing,” she said.

“That’s completely different!” Scrooge scoffed. “Why are you taking the kids’ side?”

“Someone has to,” Della said quietly, but full of conviction. “Someone has to stand up for them.”

“And someone ought to be looking to see if Webbigail left the house,” Mrs. Beakley said. “Because she’s not one to sit around and wait for something to happen, especially unsupervised.”

Della winced. Though she didn’t know Webby as well as Mrs. Beakley or the triplets did, she could tell that the older duck had a point. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t upset with her, though. Seriously, this family had some screwed up dynamics.

“Are Violet and Lena with Webby?” Della asked the boys, who shook their heads. Della hissed. 

“We cannae let her wander the streets on her own after dark,” Scrooge protested. “She might run into trouble.”

“That’s exactly what she’s hoping for,” Huey said grimly. “To run into FOWL.”

Mrs. Beakley groaned. “This is all my fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Louie snapped and when the others looked at him, he huffed. “What? Did you expect me to lie and say that it wasn’t?”

“How long has she been alone in her room?” Della asked and the boys frowned. Thirty seconds of silence passed, which did little to soothe her nerves. 

“Uh…” the boys said in unison. 

“Curse me kilts,” Scrooge snapped. “We need to go look for her _now_.”

* * *

Webby hadn’t, contrary to what the others thought, gone alone. Lena and Violet refused to leave her side and had called their fathers to let them know that they’d be late for dinner. Lena was of the opinion that Webby shouldn’t be left by herself right now and Violet concurred. Webby was emotionally volatile; they didn’t need to add more kindle to the fire.

It was, however, as the others feared. Webby was actively looking for FOWL, which was problematic because no one knew where FOWL’s HQ was in Duckburg. Thus far, all they’d done was wander around in circles. Webby didn’t have the magical trinket that Louie had yet to steal from the Money Bin, which meant she had nothing to summon FOWL agents to her.

In the end, dispirited, Webby wandered to the beach where she’d found Lena’s letters and sat there, hugging her knees. Lena and Violet sprawled beside her. 

“I don’t want to go back,” Webby said.

“You could always stay at our house,” Violet said. “We could have a sleepover.”

“And no supernatural vengeance,” Lena said with a small smile. “I promise.”

Webby didn’t smile back. She was too morose. Instead, she stared at her feet and the girls put their arms around her. Webby sighed.

“Do you think my mom is out there, somewhere?” Webby asked. “Wondering what happened to me and never knowing? Do you think she ever gave up on seeing me again? Or...or is it like Granny--Mrs. Beakley thinks? That she never would’ve cared for me at all?”

She was having a hard time saying ‘Granny’ when they weren’t related. Lena sympathized. It had taken her a while to not say “Aunt” before Magica every single time, though she still slipped up.

“Statistically speaking, it’s entirely possible she’s still out there, waiting for you,” Violet said.

“Do you think the Phantom Blot knows who my father is?” Webby said and Lena shuddered. 

“Sorry, pink, that guy gives me the creeps,” she said. 

Webby squeezed her hand. 

“And we’ve all agreed that Lena isn’t about to summon him herself,” Violet said with a stern look at her sister. “It appears that it would be in our best interest to wait.”

Webby grimaced and Lena hugged her. She hated seeing her best friend so down. 

“The boys are going to wonder where you are, if they’re not already looking,” Lena reminded her. “You disappear on them once and they never let you forget it.”

“I don’t want to go back right now,” Webby repeated and shook her head. “It was all a lie.”

Lena smiled bitterly. “I know a thing or two about lying, pink.”

“Yeah, but you did it because you had no choice,” Webby protested. “You were being manipulated.”

“And Mrs. Beakley thought she was protecting you by lying to you,” Violet replied. 

Lena shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “It’s all in how you justify it.”

“No, you’re a good person, Lena,” Webby said.

“Then what does that make Mrs. Beakley?” Lena wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” Webby said, grimacing. Her stomach grumbled and Lena smiled weakly. They’d skipped dinner and it was getting late. Although their fathers had said that they’d understand, given the vague circumstances that Lena had sketched out, they ought to be turning in soon. They were bound to be worried.

“We’ll raid the Money Bin tomorrow,” Lena promised, though she wished she could just serve as bait. That’d be so much easier. And who knew? Maybe the Phantom Blot wouldn’t try to kill her this time. That’d be novel.

The gulls cried and skimmed the waves. Despite how Webby had behaved earlier with the boys, she wasn’t over this. It wasn’t something you could simply push aside in an afternoon. 

“I guess I ought to call my-- text someone to let them know where I am, so they don’t worry,” Webby said. She’d been about to say “call my grandmother”--Lena could tell. She’d cut herself off to keep the fresh wound from aching further.

She said that, but Lena also sensed hesitancy. She didn’t want to return to the manor and was afraid that the others might try to coax her into it. The wind picked up and Webby shivered, though it might not have been the temperature.

“If it would be easier, I could call them,” Violet offered and Webby shook her head.

Reluctantly, she pulled out her pink cell phone and sent out a text. About thirty seconds later, her phone rang and she groaned, answering it. 

“Are you okay?” Huey asked and Webby nodded. Then, remembering that he couldn’t see her, she replied softly, “Yes.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re all right, sweetie?” Della asked. 

“I’m just going to have a sleepover with Lena and Violet,” Webby said quietly. 

“Mrs. Beakley would like to speak with you,” Della said. “If that’s all right.”

“I don’t want to speak to her right now,” Webby said and closed her eyes as if bracing herself. 

“I understand,” Della replied. “I don’t blame you.”

“Webby,” Mrs. Beakley cut in, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” Webby said coldly. Lena flinched at her tone. She’d never heard Webby address anyone like that. Normally, her best friend was so full of warmth and good cheer. Then again, it was impossible to be happy after news like that. Lena’s heart ached for her.

“But are you sorry that you did it or sorry that you got caught?” Violet murmured, too low for the phone to pick up. Lena privately agreed with her.

“Please, come home,” Mrs. Beakley begged.

“Is it really my home?” Webby challenged. “Maybe my home is elsewhere.”

She hesitated before hanging up on her. She was shaking and Lena hugged her. Webby swallowed hard. None of this solved the problem of getting the Phantom Blot’s attention, not without the triplets. But given the circumstances, Lena wouldn’t have wanted to return to McDuck Manor either.

“You’re not gonna run out on us, are you, pink?” Lena said, only half teasing. She worried about what Webby might do if she found her mother and decided to abscond with her. She didn’t want to lose her, not again.

“I won’t leave you,” Webby promised and Lena hoped that this was a promise she could keep.

* * *

It was amazing the myriad ways in which FOWL had its fingers everywhere. Without too much effort, using the Phantom Blot’s credentials (which he’d loaned her), Pepper was surfing for information regarding Webby and her best friends. It hadn’t taken long to discover Violet’s house, which was far less secure than McDuck Manor. However, Pepper had no way of knowing where Webby was. 

If she was in McDuck Manor, they’d have to break in again. The Phantom Blot had done it without too much difficulty, but they’d have a hard time justifying their actions when the Buzzards called them to task if they weren’t going in to steal magic. Searching for Webby was a pet project, not her mission, and she wasn’t even a full ranking officer. She was only a flunky.

“There are rumors that there’s another Bin within the house full of magical artifacts,” the Phantom Blot said in an offhand voice. He stood behind her while she used one of FOWL’s desktops in what passed for a research library. It had books on criminality and various ways to get away with misdeeds; it also featured a few desktops for those who were without other computer resources. Pepper had her smartphone, but since she had a small data plan, this was better.

Also, due to security reasons, she couldn’t access the Phantom Blot’s information on her phone. FOWL had registered everyone’s IP and restricted that to their own personnel files. That rule didn’t apply to their computers, which were running a VPN that cloaked their activity. As they were using McDuck Enterprises’ internet, that was for the best. 

McDuck Enterprises and FOWL were intertwined together so intricately that Pepper wondered, briefly, how Scrooge intended to split them. The Buzzards had done a good job weaving themselves in and out, making themselves indisposable to Scrooge McDuck all the while linking themselves everywhere. It was impressive if a bit too much for Pepper to wrap her head around just yet.

“Should we try that?” she asked. She was distracted, but at least the Phantom Blot knew why. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. He’d been much more forthcoming lately.

“It’s our best bet,” he replied. “And it ought to give you a chance to see Webby again.”

“What if she’s not there?” Pepper fussed. “FOWL wants us to do all of our assignments as partners, so we can’t split off.”

“We can check Violet Sabrewing’s house first,” the Phantom Blot said. “If the other rumors are true, then Lena de Spell lives there too.

“Not that I’d like to get into it with her, either.” 

Pepper remembered all too well what had happened when the Phantom Blot and Lena Sabrewing had matched weapons last time. It’d been the talk of the Eggheads for a week.

“Then that can just be your cover story, silly,” she replied. “Besides, we can always stop by there and then go to McDuck Manor.”

The Buzzards had been preoccupied too as of late. She thought they had realized in how many ways they were intermingled with McDuck Enterprises and were trying to extricate themselves. They wouldn’t notice if Pepper and the Phantom Blot took the initiative for once. 

They decamped for Violet Sabrewing’s house and hoped that they might be ignored for going out on their own. Fortunately, Steelbeak was being upbraided and it was easy to sneak out. Pepper didn’t know what he’d done, but she was glad not to be in his shoes. The only reason he was a full agent was because of Black Heron and she wondered how much Heron regretted that decision.

There was no magical residue around the Sabrewings’ household, save for Lena’s magic. Pepper and the Phantom Blot hid in a tree while Pepper used her spyglass to look into the dining room. When she glimpsed Webby, her heart leaped. 

“She’s here!” she cried. 

The Phantom Blot nodded and then smiled cryptically. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

“Tell what?” 

“That I went to McDuck Manor while you visited with Webby,” he replied. He rolled his eyes and she puzzled anew what Steelbeak had done to earn the Buzzards’ wrath. Still, they _were_ distracted and if they returned with an artifact, any impropriety would be forgiven.

“All right,” she said and then hesitated before adding, “Be careful.”

“You too,” he said. He frowned. “You don’t know what nonsense Agent 22 put in her head.”

Pepper nodded and balled her fists. If Webby was her daughter, as she now suspected, then she’d have her work cut out for her. She removed her skull cap and revealed a bright red dress underneath her outfit. By then, the Phantom Blot had hastened away, leaving Pepper to sink or swim.

That was fine. She could do this. 

Steeling herself, she went to the front door and rang the doorbell.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby, Lena, and Violet take a blood oath. Pepper shows up at Violet's house, followed by Mrs. Beakley, Scrooge, and the triplets. Agent 22 and Pepper confront each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned on working on The Longest Night and then, failing that, Bad Touch Redux. (Those are both stories on my LiveJournal, which haven't been posted here because I thought interest would be low).
> 
> This came out instead, mostly because I thought the blood oath idea was a good one for Legacies. Also, this chapter is, like, SUPER DRAMATIC and I’m warning you now.
> 
> One more thing: I didn't get any comments on the last chapter, which makes me wonder if no one's reading. :( Please, feedback, please? It's hard to write in a void.

_Ten minutes earlier…_

“Let’s take a blood oath!” Webby cried. Violet had been reading a novel, Lena was surfing idly on her phone, and Webby had been staring at a book without reading it. She’d also been playing around with Boggle dice, more for something to do with her hands than because she was interested in it. The other girls turned to stare at her.

“We should take a blood oath,” Webby said in a calmer voice. “That way, I know that you two are my sisters and you’ll never leave me.”

“A blood oath?” Violet repeated. “Hmm. Fascinating. I’ve never tried one before, but then again, I’ve had no one who wished to partake of it with me.”

Lena was giving Webby a strange look. Webby frowned, staring back at her. “What?”

“I don’t have anything against blood oaths, pink, but are you sure you’re thinking clearly right now?” Lena asked. “You did just bail on the boys and McDuck Manor.”

“I don’t want to face Gran--Agent 22 right now,” Webby said. If she couldn’t call her “granny” and she was starting to doubt that “Mrs. Beakley” was her real name, then she was calling her Agent 22. It made her heart wrench to call her that, as if they were strangers, but they were, weren’t they? She wasn’t her real grandmother, after all.

“And I can’t trust her, either,” Webby added. “You guys are the only people I can trust.”

“I thought you trusted the boys?” Lena asked, raising her eyebrows. “You’ve called them your family before.”

“Yeah, but…” Webby faltered. 

“It’s not their fault that Mrs. B lied to you and Scrooge backed her up,” Lena added.

Webby frowned. “What do you have against blood oaths?”  
  
“Nothing,” Lena assured her. “We can go take a blood oath.”

“Good,” Webby said and smiled, but it felt strained. She went searching for a sharp knife with which to cut their palms. It wasn’t too difficult--Violet had all manner of weapons in her room. A normal person might be concerned about that. Then again, Webby had access to all manner of weapons in McDuck Manor, too, so it didn’t faze her.

Once she’d found a proper blade, secured bandages and antiseptic, and was sure that she could do this without risking infection or injury, she gestured for them to sit in a circle. 

“I swear on my blood that I will never betray anyone here,” Webby said. “I swear on pain of death that I will support and help my best friends and keep them from harm.”

She sliced her palm and gritted her teeth at the pain. She’d sliced it quickly to prevent the knife from catching on her hand. Lena and Violet repeated the oath and sliced their palms too. Curious, Webby looked at Lena’s hand. She wasn’t bleeding like a normal person. Rather, dark shadows dripped from her palm and Lena looked uncomfortably self-conscious. 

“Of course I don’t bleed like you do,” Lena said, pained. “I have to have freak shadow blood.”

“Sssh,” Webby said and pressed her palm against Lena’s. “It’s just an important part that makes you who you are.”

She imagined that she could feel the shadow blood mixing with hers and she grinned. Violet didn’t show any qualms about mixing her blood with Lena’s either and Webby and Violet pressed palms together to complete the circle. 

Lena frowned as her hand naturally healed itself. “That’s...interesting.”

“It must be because you’re made of magic,” Webby said, beaming at her best friend. “And it’s self-repairing.”

“You’ve never hurt yourself before now?” Violet queried, contemplative. 

“No...Aunt Magica was pretty good about keeping me away from dangerous stuff,” Lena said, uneasy. “She didn’t want me to go before she ‘got her revenge’.”

Webby stroked Lena’s hair, only she’d forgotten that it was her left hand, which she’d sliced just now, and accidentally dripped blood into Lena’s hair. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lena said. “It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve had in my hair.”

“Then what is?” Violet asked, genuinely curious.

“Uh…” Lena faltered and, in the nick of time, the doorbell rang. The girls exchanged puzzled looks and sprang to their feet. Webby was aware that she was leaving a grisly trail as she walked through the living room and to the front door, but she hadn’t had time to bandage herself up. 

“Hello?” Webby said. She stood, silhouetted in the doorway, blood dripping from her hand, staring out at the stranger waiting on the doorstep. She blinked, taken aback. However, her surprise was nothing compared to the stranger, whose eyes widened in horror.

“You’re bleeding!” the woman exclaimed.

“You’re the woman from the museum!” Webby exclaimed. “What...what are _you_ doing here?”

“Don’t you think that you should bandage that first?” the woman said, frowning down at Webby’s hand.

“Oh, this? I just took a blood oath,” Webby said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To her, it was. “What are you doing here?”

“You know, I might be able to bandage that myself. I have a lot of experience as an Egghead tending to injuries. You’d be surprised how often you get hurt as a flunky,” the woman said. 

“Egghead...that voice…” Webby’s eyes widened. “You’re not Paprika. You’re Pepper! The Phantom Blot’s assistant!”

“We’re more partners now, but yes, that’s me. I’m Pepper,” Pepper said. 

“What’s going on?” Lena asked, leaning against Webby’s back. She was a solid presence behind her and Webby was grateful. She also had smeared blood on her palm, which might’ve been weird to Pepper.

“Uh, Lena, this is Pepper. Pepper, this is my best friend, Lena.”

“Glad to meet you!” Pepper said and went to shake her hand. “You’re bloody too.”

“Blood oath,” Lena said with a shrug.

“Won’t you come in?” Webby said. She felt odd entertaining a FOWL flunky, but after what had happened with her grandmother, she wasn’t sure who to trust anymore. (And she wasn’t her grandmother, either, but that was going to be a hard habit to break). 

“Nice place you got here,” Pepper said as they entered the living room. There were paintings on the walls and pictures of Violet and her dads. There was a new one of Violet, her dads, and Lena. Webby smiled at that. She was glad her best friend had found a family.

“But I thought you lived at McDuck Manor?” Pepper said.

“Yeah...uh...about that…” Webby said and winced. “It’s a long story.”

“Maybe we should bandage our hands and then speak with her,” Violet proposed. “As we appear to be dripping onto my dads’ carpet.”

“Oh, yeah...heh,” Webby said, grimacing. She felt out of sorts and wondered whether the blood oath had been such a good idea. Maybe her judgement _was_ being called into question. She was starting to doubt herself in general.

“I can help!” Pepper offered and rushed forward. 

“That’s...the way to the garage,” Violet said, nonplussed. “Webbigail, who did you say this woman was?”

“Hi! I’m Pepper!” Pepper said brightly. “I think, well, maybe, I’m not sure, but the Phantom Blot and I think that I might be Webby’s mother.”

Though she heard the words, they didn’t connect in her mind. For years, Webby hadn’t had parents. They’d been vague perceptions brought to shadowy life by her grandmother, er, Agent 22. She’d given up on the hope of either of her parents being alive. That was part of why she hadn’t brought it up with the triplets; that and her grandmother had been so forbidding about the topic that she’d thought it best to leave it alone. Look where that had gotten them.

“I beg your pardon?” Violet said, which seemed to be the best, politest thing to say, because Webby had nothing. Her beak was wide open.

“Pink, are you hearing this?” Lena asked and then frowned. “Pink? Webby, are you okay?”

“My mother?” Webby repeated, feeling like she’d been run over by a freight train. Her chest was tight and she was still dripping onto the plush, expensive carpet. She no longer felt the sting on her palm.

“That’s right,” Pepper said. “See? We even look alike!”

Stupefied, Webby looked at her best friends and then back to Pepper. First her grandmother’s betrayal and now this...it was too much to take in. Webby fell to her knees. She could barely hear the world around her. When had her life become so dramatic? And why did she feel like a bit player?

“Webbigail!” Violet exclaimed, alarmed, and she and Lena knelt down beside her.

“I’m sorry,” Webby said.

“For what?” Lena said, shaking her head at her. “You’ve had a long, horrible day.”

“Horrible?” Pepper repeated. “I’m sorry. Was it something I did?”

“No, it’s not you,” Webby said. She heard herself say the words, but they seemed to belong to someone else. She felt disconnected from reality.

“Earlier today, I found out that my grandmother isn’t really my grandmother and now here you are, telling me you’re my mother. After I found out that Granny stole my egg from a FOWL hideout because it was on fire--”  
  
“ _She_ stole my egg?” Pepper said and Webby looked up. Pepper’s anger was palpable and cut through the strange haze hanging over her. She was dimly aware of Violet vanishing to get bandages, though Lena remained at Webby’s side. 

“Agent 22. A SHUSH agent. The Phantom Blot was right.”

“There’s a sentence I don’t want to hear again,” Lena said with a shiver and Webby squeezed her hand. 

“You’re...you’re Lena de Spell--” Pepper started.

“It’s Sabrewing,” Lena cut in. “I’m Lena Sabrewing.”

“Sorry about what happened with the Blot. He has a thing against Magica de Spell.”

“I know,” Lena said. 

“He might’ve taken things a teensy bit too far,” Pepper added.

“No kidding,” Lena said sarcastically. “Hadn’t noticed the whole ‘I almost ceased to exist’ part.”

“Sorry,” Pepper said. “Like I said, he gets excited.”

“Yeah, real exciting stuff, unmaking me,” Lena said sarcastically. “Woo. Can’t wait to see what he does for the finale.”

“How can you be my mother?” Webby said, squeezing Lena’s hand. Violet reappeared with bandages and began wrapping Webby’s wound. Webby saw that she’d already taken care of herself.

“I’m pretty sure I laid your egg about twelve years ago. Almost thirteen,” Pepper mused. “I sure remember a lot of pain and poof, there was your egg. And then poof, it was gone.”

“I’m gonna need a minute,” Webby said. Or maybe more than one. She sank down into the carpet and didn’t think she could rise again. Her limbs felt leaden. When she opened her mouth again, nothing came out, save for a low moan. 

“We’re gonna need to have a talk,” Lena said, pulling Pepper out of the living room and into the kitchen. Webby watched them go; she was gobsmacked. Violet looked between the living room and the kitchen as if trying to decide who might need her more. 

“Perhaps some calming breathing exercises might be in order?” Violet said. Webby stared at her, or, rather, _through_ her. She wasn’t seeing her surroundings at all. Pepper’s words reverberated through her mind. 

_“I think, well, maybe, I’m not sure, but the Phantom Blot and I think that I might be Webby’s mother.”_

Her _mother_. There were expletives she could have uttered, but none of them encapsulated how she felt. Her mind had gone completely blank. She couldn’t quite grasp the enormity of what had happened. It felt like there were waves beneath her and they threatened to pull her under, like they had when Glomgold had flung her out to sea. 

Maybe she did need the triplets. She was floundering here.

“Webbigail?” Violet asked and waved a hand in front of her face. It didn’t register. 

“Vi, I think she’s too stunned to react,” Lena said as she and Pepper re-entered the room. “You might wanna give her a bit.”

“My mother…” Webby repeated. She’d known about the triplets’ mother; she’d been expecting closure of some sort with her. To have her in the manor had been a shock, but nothing like this. Webby’s phone rang and she let it go. 

The doorbell rang again, though it seemed pointless, as the door was still open. Standing on the other side were Mrs. Beakley, the triplets, and Scrooge McDuck.

“Everyone’s here now,” Lena said. 

“Webbigail, I wanted to speak with you--” Mrs. Beakley started.

“Did you know her?” Webby demanded. “Did you know that this was my mom?”

“Agent 22?” Pepper said.

“I’m afraid I don’t know her,” Mrs. Beakley said. “I didn’t know whose egg I took.”

Webby stared around the room and groaned. This was all too much. She collapsed back against the carpet and then gazed at the ceiling. She couldn’t think of anything to say or do. She’d completely frozen. 

“All right,” Lena announced, taking charge of the situation. “Everyone, into the kitchen. Now. Give her some breathing room. And that includes you, Pepper ‘I think I’m your mother’.”

Dewey knelt beside Webby and Webby lifted her head to stare at him before collapsing back onto the carpet. 

“Webby?” Dewey asked. 

“Just go,” Webby said faintly. “All of you. Just go.”

When Della had returned, Webby felt like her heart was about to burst with emotions. Now, she didn’t know what to feel. It was like too many emotions had bombarded her at once and they were all competing with each other to be recognized first. She stared up at the ceiling and waited to sort herself out. If that was even possible at this point.

* * *

“You’re her mother,” Agent 22 said when they entered the kitchen. With all of them together, it was cramped. Scrooge leaned over the counter and beneath the hanging pots and pans.

“And you’re…” 

Words couldn’t encapsulate the loss she’d felt when Webby’s egg had gone missing. She was facing the woman who had stolen her daughter from her and she didn’t know how to react or feel. She was unwittingly echoing her daughter, although she at least was on her feet.

“I am,” Agent 22 said into the silence and inclined her head. “You’re an agent of FOWL.”

“And you’re supposed to be the good guys?” Pepper said in a quavering voice. “You kidnapped my daughter’s egg! You stole her from me. How does that make you good? How?”

“There were some mitigating circumstances,” Scrooge argued and Pepper ignored him.

“I thought that, with the FOWL hideout in imminent danger of collapse, her egg would be one of the casualties if I didn’t act fast,” Agent 22 replied. 

“I was going to go back in there and rescue her!” Pepper said hotly. “I would never have abandoned her. Never.”

“Okay, maybe we should take a few minutes to cool down--” Huey started and Pepper ignored him too.

“Well, how was I to know that? You’re an agent of FOWL. You could hardly be up to anything good. For all I knew, even if you were about to raise the child, you would have raised her to be evil.”

“And how is that any different from raising her on a foundation of lies?” Dewey interjected.

“What did you tell her?” Pepper asked, deadly earnest.

“It doesn’t matter what I told her,” Mrs. Beakley said, prim. “You would have indoctrinated her into evil and possibly harmed her.”

“I would never have hurt her! How could you tell that all from my leaving the egg unattended?” Pepper exclaimed. “I would have loved her and cherished her as my own. She was the only thing I had that was _mine_ in FOWL.

“Black Heron stopped me from going after the egg, but it would’ve been too late, wouldn’t it have been? You already stole her.”

“Beakley had no way of knowing any of that!” Scrooge argued, taking Agent 22’s side. Pepper should have expected as much.

“Just like I had no way of knowing what had happened to the egg,” Pepper said. “I thought maybe I was mistaken. Maybe I’d never laid an egg like that. Maybe I had and she had died. I told myself that it didn’t matter, because it had never happened. There was no egg.”

Agent 22 looked ashamed, as well she might. “I...I’m sorry for that.”

“You know my daughter better than I do,” Pepper said and faltered, feeling ashamed of herself. “Is there anything I should say to her? Anything that might make her believe me? Or at least not see me as a total stranger?”

“She won’t listen to anything I have to say,” Mrs. Beakley said and sighed. “Not anymore. I’ve betrayed her trust.”

“No kidding,” Lena said sarcastically. Pepper thought perhaps the shadow teenager was fluent in sarcasm.

“We cannae just leave her here,” Scrooge said.

“Why not?” Lena bristled. “We’re her best friends. We can take care of her. Besides, for someone who encourages her to call you ‘Uncle Scrooge’, you don’t treat her like family either.”

“What the blazes are you talking about?” Scrooge said, though Pepper thought Scrooge knew what Lena was referring to.

“You told her that she wasn’t family,” Lena said tersely. “Remember? On the _Sunchaser_? She must’ve told me when I was trapped in the shadow realm about a million times.

“So, not only is Mrs. Beakley _not_ her real grandmother, but the people that you’re encouraging to feel like are family to her aren’t family either,” Lena snapped. “Any wonder why she came here?”

“We’re her brothers,” Huey said stubbornly. “We came here because she needs us.”

“You owe her an apology, old man,” Lena snapped at Scrooge. “Because as far as I know, you never apologized to her. Not once.”

“Uh...getting back to Agent 22 stealing my egg…” Pepper said, nonplussed. “You’ve got your own thing going on there.”

“Yes, we need to talk,” Agent 22 said. “Follow me.”

She turned toward the left of the hallway and Violet called out, “That’s still heading toward the garage!”

Pepper allowed Mrs. Beakley to pick a place for them to hash this out, that wasn’t the kitchen, where things were already contentious. While Pepper was curious about what Lena had mentioned, she wasn’t curious enough to ask when she had another problem in her lap. She wished that she’d brought the Phantom Blot here to back her up, although she understood why Lena disliked him.

“All right, let’s hear it,” Pepper said once they’d found an isolated spot, which happened to be the garage anyway. Pepper turned the lights on so she could see the woman’s face more clearly. The woman who had ripped her daughter away from her all those years ago. 

* * *

“There were more things that went on in the shadow realm than you previously mentioned,” Violet commented to Lena. Scrooge had gone to talk to Webby and apologize, as he’d been jumped at by the kids. Lena didn’t see that apology working out, knowing how Scrooge operated, but he owed her big time.

“Yeah, well…” Lena shrugged. “I don’t like talking about it.”

“That’s understandable,” Violet said. “If you do feel the need to discuss matters, I am always here to help.”

“What are you, my therapist?” Lena muttered. Louder, she said, “All right, fine. Whatever. Jeez.”

“Webbigail will be all right,” Violet said.

“Do you have any proof or are you just making things up now?” Lena asked and Violet looked pained.

“I see false platitudes don’t work on you.”

“No, they don’t,” Lena said stiffly.

“I don’t know if she’ll be all right,” Violet admitted. “It’s impossible to conjecture based on the limited evidence.”

“That’s nerd speak for you have no clue, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Violet said and winced. “Yes, it is.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apology not accepted in both cases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, taking a break from editing to write this. It’s a little short and I’m sorry about that. 
> 
> Also, two failed apologies later...XD

“Right, well, Lena told me that I should apologize to you,” Scrooge said, looking tremendously awkward and as if he’d rather be somewhere else. Webby groaned, pushing herself up into a sitting position with the wrong hand. Pain lanced through it and she hissed. Scrooge glanced down at her bandages, where the blood seeped through, and Webby’s eyes narrowed.

“About what?” she asked, though she had her suspicions. 

“What did you do to your hand?” he asked.

“Blood oath,” Webby said curtly. Everything was coming to a head, wasn’t it? Her stomach clenched and she felt uncomfortable. She appreciated what Lena intended but now wasn’t really the time. She already knew that Scrooge McDuck didn’t consider her family. Right now, she didn’t know who was in her family. The boys, maybe? Pepper supposedly, but Webby wasn’t feeling that right now.

“Why the blazes would you do a blood oath?” Scrooge asked.

“Maybe,” Webby said with a bite in her voice, “it’s because I’m having a hard time trusting people right now.”

She hadn’t meant to speak so harshly to someone she venerated, but Scrooge had aided and abetted Agent 22 over the years. He had helped cement the lie in Webby’s mind, which made him complicit. Her throat tightened. 

“Ach, I’m sorry for that, lass,” he said.

She gave him a hard look. “But you’re not sorry for what you’re really apologizing about, are you?”

Her voice was quiet now, and, to her surprise, Scrooge sat down in a chair near her. He wasn’t about to sprawl out on the floor, but then again, he was incredibly old. That’d probably be painful for a man his age.

“You mean the _Sunchaser_ ; when Dewey asked about Della.”

She nodded. It wasn’t her fault, but she looked away, anyway. She clenched her fists and blood dripped onto the carpet. She cursed inwardly. Even now, she had too much training from Agent 22 to say it aloud.

“You said I wasn’t family,” Webby reminded him. “You’re right. I’m not. I’m not family to _you_ , anyway.”

“That’s not...I was cornered…” he grimaced. 

“It’s okay,” Webby said. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

Webby released her fists and hugged her knees. “I know I’m not family. I know you told me to call you ‘Uncle Scrooge’ as an affectation, not because you meant it.”

“Now, see here, lass, that’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t lie to me. You’ve done enough of that,” she said. She wasn’t accepting his apology, even if he ever got around to saying and meaning it. For all she knew, he’d keep procrastinating on it and offering meaningless apologies on things she didn’t care about. It was more than her heart could bear right now.

“I never meant to hurt you, lass.”

“I know,” she said. She wanted this conversation over and done with. Pushing herself to her feet, she said, “Could you excuse me? I’m going to go look for the boys.”

“Webbigail--” he started and she turned her head to look at him. “Ye need to bandage that hand again. And…”

He swallowed hard and looked pained. “I’m sorry. I shouldnae have reacted like that.”

As far as apologies go, that wasn’t much of one. It wasn’t the one she wanted, either. She nodded stiffly and made her way back to the bathroom. Thankfully, Scrooge let her go. She quickly found the bandages that Violet had left out and unwrapped and rewrapped her wound. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she sighed. 

“Lemme guess--he apologized but didn’t?” Lena said, leaning into the doorframe. 

“Yeah,” Webby said. “Lena, I appreciate what you were trying to do--”

“But sod off?” Lena suggested with a small smile. “The boys are in Violet’s room if you’re interested. If you’d rather be alone, there’s a spare bedroom down the hall. Up to you.”

Webby smiled and then turned around to hug Lena. “I would never tell you to sod off.”

Lena hugged her back. “I know. But that’s because you’re too polite. I wouldn’t blame you for thinking it, though. Sometimes, people have to be left alone to deal with drama the size of a soap opera.

“General FOWL? One Spy to Live?” Lena said and then groaned. “Those are terrible. Never mind.”

Webby’s beak twitched. “You tried.”

“So, where are you going to go?” Lena asked and Webby frowned for a second, contemplating it. It didn’t take much consideration, however. She’d go talk to the boys. Yes, she loved and adored her best friends, but right now, the boys knew her better. And besides, they were her family, inasmuch as they could be. 

Releasing Lena, she headed for Violet’s room.

* * *

For a moment, the two women stared at each other. Pepper’s chest was tight and, although she wasn’t normally a violent person, she wanted to take a swing at Agent 22. This woman was the reason Pepper had never known her daughter. This woman had taken her in and raised her as her own, with no thought to what might have happened to Webby’s parents. For God’s sake, she’d even _named_ her. In what respect was Webby even Pepper’s daughter anymore?

“I assure you, I hadn’t meant to cause this much pain,” Mrs. Beakley said quietly. 

“Yes, you did,” Pepper spat furiously. “You knew all along that you were taking an egg from its parent. You knew what you were doing was wrong and yet you did it anyway. Webby was mine. But now she’ll never be because you brainwashed her.”

“I did no such thing!” Mrs. Beakley objected. “I taught her how to protect herself against enemy attacks--”

“And you taught her that I’m her enemy,” Pepper said. “Well, not in a manner of speaking, but just the same, you did. She’s never going to trust me.”

Behind them, two cars had their covers on and were draped also in shadow. No one had bothered to turn the garage lights on so that they were having their confrontation in the dark. Oh, how she longed to strike her. Even now, she was pretending she had the moral high ground.

There was a practical reason that she didn’t. She was pretty sure that Mrs. Beakley could kick her ass. Also, striking her would be satisfying at the moment, but it wouldn’t erase over a decade of brainwashing. Or bring back the missing years. 

Pepper swallowed past a lump in her throat. “You got to see her first steps. You were there for her first word. And all of her other firsts.”

She was sick with anger now and she shook. 

“I know.”

“That’s all you’re going to say to me?” Pepper snapped. “‘I know’? No kidding, you know. You know what you did to Webby and what you did to me, all because _you_ thought you had the right to kidnap a child.”

“I didn’t know that she belonged to someone like you,” Mrs. Beakley said softly.

“It was easier to think about when I was just a nameless, faceless person, huh?” Pepper threw back at her.

“As far as I knew, FOWL was comprised of villains who would have liked nothing more than to take out their anger on a child,” Mrs. Beakley said primly. Her shoulders slumped. “Now I see that I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

“‘Sorry’?” Pepper repeated. “Sorry doesn’t make it all better. Sorry doesn’t bring back the years. Sorry doesn’t--doesn’t _mean_ anything!”

“No, I suppose that it doesn’t,” she replied. “But I’m afraid that, short of a time machine, I can’t undo the damage that has been done.”

“Would you do it again, if you knew?” Pepper said. Her chest felt full to bursting and tears pricked her eyes. She hated that when she was upset, she cried. That didn’t seem fair. Then again, nothing about this situation was fair, least of all Agent 22’s attitude.

Mrs. Beakley hesitated, which was answer enough, and then she sighed. “I care about Webby. I did what I thought was right.”

“But now that you know it’s not, it doesn’t matter, does it?” Pepper rejoined. “You stole her from me and because I’m an Egghead, that forgives everything?”

“No, I’m not saying that,” she said. “I’m saying that Webbigail is a bright, brilliant child and I love her. And, after not having had children, raising her was both a trial and a delight.”

“Must’ve been nice,” Pepper said. “Since I should’ve been the one to do it.”

An uncomfortable silence descended over the garage. She could feel the other woman’s gaze searching hers in the darkness, but she didn’t know what she saw. As for herself, Pepper felt nothing but disgust and dismay. She also felt like an imposter. She wasn’t a mother--how could she be when she’d never raised a child? Sure, she might have laid Webby’s egg, but Mrs. Beakley was the one who had raised Webbigail and nurtured her, given her a place to stay, and cherished her.

She’d stolen all that away from Pepper and now, Pepper didn’t know if there was any place left in Webby’s heart for her, especially not after Agent 22’s teachings. She might not be able to reach her own daughter thanks to her meddling.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Beakley said again and Pepper scoffed.

“Nothing but empty words, if you don’t mean them,” she said. Empty, cold, meaningless words.

* * *

“Curious,” Violet said. “The garage remains relatively quiet.”

Lena shuddered, hoping that the women hadn’t knocked each other out. She’d say it was unlikely since Pepper was a scrawny little thing, but she’d seen Webby in action. Webby was small but mighty.

“Should we check on them?” Violet pressed.

“It’s your funeral,” Lena said, shrugging. She wasn’t fond of anyone who considered the Phantom Blot a friend. She rubbed her arms self-consciously, thinking of easily she’d nearly ceased to exist.

Violet knocked on the door and, reluctantly, Lena stood behind her. She didn’t think Pepper could hurt them, but she had magic at the ready just in case. 

When she opened the door, however, she found two defeated looking women in the dark. Violet flicked the light on.

“Where’s Webby?” they asked in unison and then grimaced, Pepper glaring at Mrs. Beakley while Mrs. Beakley was unable to maintain eye contact.

“She’s with the boys in Vi’s room,” Lena explained. She frowned at Pepper. “Maybe you ought to go talk to her.”

Mrs. Beakley moved and Lena cleared her throat. “Not you, Abbey Road. Webby’s had enough of you for a while.”

If not forever.

Mrs. Beakley bristled and then her shoulders sank. “Understood.”

Lena studied her for a minute. It was unlike her to capitulate so quickly, but then again, she knew that she’d done wrong. Also, Webby’s enmity was hard to earn, so she must’ve felt it doubly. Lena didn’t feel sorry for her. She knew what it was like to be lied to and manipulated her whole life. She’d just never thought to put Mrs. Beakley in the same category as Aunt Magica.

Pepper moved past Lena and Violet and Lena turned to watch her go.

“Hey, Pepper?” Lena called and Pepper stopped, frowning at the teenager.

“Good luck,” Lena said, not certain why she was saying it, but feeling that it was needed. Pepper nodded before disappearing back into the house. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby ends up overwhelmed and it's a good thing Lena and Violet are there to support her. Meanwhile, Pepper and Mrs. Beakley think about their drastically different circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran out of steam here. Rawr. I still like how it came out, though.

For a while, they just sat there. None of them spoke. The enormous revelations sat between them like a heavy weight upon their chests and no one knew how to confront Webby’s reality. This was somehow more personal than when Lena had died, perhaps because the boys were so intimately wrapped up in it. Before, she’d been able to conceal the depth of her emotions from them and her grandmother, no, _Agent 22_ , had consoled her. 

“You sure you don’t wanna talk?” Dewey asked. Webby had been staring blankly at Violet’s calendar. It was a French calendar and she didn’t know why she was surprised that Violet’s calendar was French. The way she felt right now, nothing should surprise her.

“No,” she said. “What is there to talk about?”

“There’s the psychological impact of your parental figure having lied to you for over a decade, not to mention the person you looked up to helping her,” Huey said and Webby, who was lying on the bed, rolled her head to look at him. They were all sprawled out on the bed, with Dewey beside her, and Louie and Huey across from them.

“I guess,” Webby said. That was a mess she wasn’t eager to unpack.

“Then there’s the additional complication of finding out that your mother is a member of an organization that you spent your life preparing to fight against,” Huey said.

“Hey, Huey?” Louie said.

“Yeah?” 

“Just. Stop.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad, I’m saying--” Huey protested and Louie cleared his throat.

“Does she _look_ like she’s in the mood for therapy right now?” Louie retorted. Webby didn’t know what Louie saw to provoke that comment, but she wasn’t about to dispute it, either. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about her feelings. Right now, she didn’t want her feelings. Someone else could have them; she’d had enough. Today had been a rollercoaster and she wanted off.

“Come on, Webby, say something,” Dewey entreated. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. She hesitated before squeezing back.

“I don’t feel like talking,” Webby said. Someone knocked at the door and she groaned. It couldn’t be Violet or Lena; well, it _might_ be Violet, to be polite, but they lived here. They didn’t need to knock. Webby dreaded who might be on the other side. She didn’t feel inclined to answer. The boys glanced at her for confirmation and she went back to staring at the calendar. Violet had marked a particular day with purple stickers, but Webby didn’t know what that meant. She noted this with vague interest.

“Webby?” the voice called through the door. It was Pepper. Reluctantly, she rose and opened the door to reveal the woman who claimed that she was her mother. Webby supposed she believed her, in that she didn’t have any evidence to the contrary. Moreover, Mrs. Beakley was behaving as if she were her mother, so she supposed that ought to settle it. It ought to, but Webby didn’t know anymore.

“Is this a bad time?” Pepper asked and Webby’s beak twitched toward the weakest of smiles.

“You could say that,” Webby said weakly. 

Pepper stared at her and Webby could tell that she wanted something from her, but she didn’t know what. 

“I know you’re overwhelmed right now, but I promise, I’m going to be the best mother I can be to you,” Pepper swore.

“You’re not going to live with her, are you?” Dewey asked, looking alarmed. He’d gotten up off the bed, as had his siblings. He stood at her back like a sentinel. 

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” Pepper faltered. “I live with FOWL, in FOWL HQ.”

Webby flinched. FOWL were the bad guys. They’d tried to hurt her friends and family. They were ruthless, cruel, and power-mad. They were almost cartoonishly evil and stood for everything foul and disgusting. And her mother was part of that, as Webby was tangentially. Or she could reject this and return to the woman who had stolen her egg and lied to her for her entire life. 

“I’m gonna stay here for a while,” Webby said. Violet and Lena’s house seemed like neutral territory. It also lacked any crushing obligations or years of deceit. Webby’s emotional capacity was running on empty. The light had come up on the dashboard and she was 100% done with today. 

“I thought we might be able to talk,” Pepper said and Webby shook her head.

“I need time,” she said. “To process all of this...everything.”

“But you’re not going to leave McDuck Manor, are you?” Dewey asked urgently. She wished she could feel even a hint of that desperation within herself, but all she really felt was tired. She wanted to sleep for a while and maybe when she woke up, things would be better.

“I don’t know, Dewey,” she said. 

Something crashed in the kitchen; it sounded like pots and pans had fallen down. It occurred to Webby belatedly that Ty and Indy hadn’t made an appearance yet. This was their house and the noise levels had to have summoned them eventually. She didn’t know how she felt about that, although it really seemed like adults were out to destroy what little comprehension she had of her world now. 

“It’s getting late,” Ty said, poking his head into the bedroom. “Webby, are you staying?”

“Yes,” Webby said, grateful that he’d asked and knowing that she would’ve felt bad about declaring that she was staying without his permission. Then again, she had been briefly considering hiding in the laundry room if only to avoid everyone. 

The boys didn’t understand. The weight of their concern was heavy, almost oppressive. She needed to get away from everything, including herself.

Ty surveyed the boys and then gestured for Webby to follow him out of the girls’ room. She accompanied him to the garage, where Webby was displeased to discover Agent 22 standing in the dark. Ty raised his eyebrows at the older duck and Webby gritted her teeth.

“Webby, I...I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you,” Mrs. Beakley said softly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Ty, to his credit, didn’t immediately bombard Webby with questions, specifically what Mrs. B was talking about. That was good because Webby didn’t feel like explaining. Perhaps Lena or Violet could fill their dads in later. 

Webby looked into Mrs. Beakley’s eyes, the woman that she’d thought was her grandmother for her entire life. The woman who had nurtured and cared for her, who claimed she thought that she was doing the right thing by stealing her away from her rightful mother, and was even now appealing to her. Webby didn’t doubt that she was sorry to have upset her, but it wasn’t enough. It was like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound.

“Would you have done it again, if you had the choice?” Webby asked.

“Now that I’ve had you in my life, I know it would’ve been empty without you,” Mrs. Beakley said quietly. “But that doesn’t make what I did right or acceptable. And I’m sorry.”

Ty had been patient enough, even if Webby didn’t feel like explaining the whole sordid affair. 

“Webby needs some time away from the situation to reflect and compose herself,” Ty said and Webby sighed, relieved. He looked at her and smiled. 

“Lena and Violet explained everything,” he informed her. “They seemed to think you needed a break.”

Webby felt a rush of gratitude toward her best friends. 

Mrs. Beakley frowned and stepped forward. She leaned forward, perhaps to kiss Webby on the forehead, and Webby moved away. It hurt her too, especially to see the pained look in Agent 22’s eyes, but she couldn’t trust her anymore. If she ever trusted her again, it would be hard-won and take a long time to recover. 

“Right,” Mrs. Beakley said after a long and drawn-out silence. “I’ll be going. You’ll be all right, Webby?”

Webby wanted to explode and demand to know how, in any universe, she could possibly be ‘all right’. How anything could be all right when everything had blown up in her face? However, she could feel herself growing dangerously numb. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be all right so much as she wasn’t sure she’d be anything for a while. That felt safer. Perhaps when she was ready, she could examine her feelings more closely and allow herself to express them. That time, unfortunately for the boys and Mrs. B, was not now.

“We’ll take good care of her,” Ty promised.

“Thank you,” Webby said.

Mrs. Beakley left. Webby didn’t know where Indy had gone, but she was relieved when the adults left the house, followed reluctantly by the boys.

“You know we’re your brothers, right?” Huey said as they stood in the doorway. “You can tell us anything. It’s not good to keep things bottled up.”

“Heh,” Webby said. “Yeah, exhibit A right there.”

She pointed at Mrs. Beakley, who was still within earshot, and the older woman cringed.

“I’m serious,” Huey said.

“Don’t forget about us,” Dewey added, taking her hands and squeezing them. He looked desperately into her eyes. “You won’t, right?’

“She needs time to process everything. Don’t crowd her,” Louie said, pulling his brothers away. He gazed into Webby’s eyes too. “Be careful, Webs.”

She smiled weakly, though it felt more like a grimace. “I will.”

They took their leave and Violet and Lena rejoined her. Lena took one look at Webby and hugged her. Webby hugged her back. Violet frowned, entering the embrace too. 

“You need a fun night out,” Lena declared.

Violet cleared her throat.

“But not right now,” Lena said. “Killjoy.”

“It’s too late for you to go out,” Indy said. “Go to bed, all of you.”

Webby changed for bed and stared at herself in the mirror again. She wasn’t going to let herself feel anything. That was safer. Her beak quivered and she told herself that she was strong enough not to cry. Vanderquacks didn’t cry. Then her beak quivered again.

She wasn’t a Vanderquack, was she? She didn’t know who she was. Too late, she realized that she was crying. She debated whether she ought to tell her best friends or stay here and be miserable on her own. 

Hugging herself, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. The door creaked open and the girls were waiting for her. She flung herself at them and they supported her as she let herself crumble.

* * *

Pepper walked a while by herself before the Phantom Blot rejoined her. She was glad for his presence because she didn’t want to be alone either. The rain fell softly upon her hair and created an odd misting effect. She wanted to take Blot’s hand but wasn’t sure how he’d take it.

“It didn’t go well, I take it,” he said in his deep, somehow soothing voice. 

“She needs time to process everything,” she replied. She just wished that didn’t make her feel like she’d failed. Unable to resist the impulse any longer, she took Blot’s hand. He startled, as if she’d meant to take someone else’s hand, and then realized abruptly that he was the only one beside her on the sidewalk.

“Wait,” he said and released her hand. Then he removed his gloves and put them away into a bag over his shoulder. His fingers were scarred and his hands had no feathers on them. He took her hand and looked like he expected her to reject him, but she didn’t. She was relieved that _he_ hadn’t rejected _her_.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any tips for me, would you?” Pepper asked.

“I don’t know anything about children, I’m afraid.”

Pepper smiled sadly. “It turns out that I don’t either.”

No, she couldn’t know anything, not if Webby hadn’t wanted to talk to her. She wouldn’t cry, despite her misery. It was enough to know that she wasn’t alone. His company, ironically, was enough to chase away the darkness.

“What will you do now?” he asked.

“Wait for her to make up her mind. What else can I do but wait?”

“Did you leave her any way to get in contact with you?” he asked, but she sensed he already knew the answer.

“If she wants to find me, she will,” Pepper said. “I know she will.”

Her smile turned bitter. “She’s supposed to be my daughter, after all.”

* * *

Mrs. Beakley was alone by choice. She had declined Launchpad’s offer to be driven back. She wanted to spend time by herself to sort things out if that was at all possible.

She’d meant what she’d said to Webby, though she worried that the relationship was past salvaging. She’d defined so much of her life based upon her relationship with Webby, the one that had disintegrated. It was all because of FOWL, yet Bentina couldn’t find it within herself to be angry at them. The true culprit was herself, after all.

She had no one else to blame. Perhaps Mr. McDuck for encouraging it, but no, that wouldn’t be right. It was she who had taken the first step and set them on this path.

She hoped that Webby talked to her mother and they were capable of making something good out of this mess. All she wanted, all she’d ever wanted, was Webby’s happiness.

If she couldn’t be a part of it, well...she had no one but herself to blame for that too.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...I have nothing to add to this at this point. There might be an epilogue, probably should be, but it might not be written for a while. XD

She’d awakened before her friends and sat, staring out the window at nothing in particular. After having cried herself out last night, she was back to that curious mix of apathy and running on fumes. This house was a safe haven, but she knew that she was only postponing the inevitable. Pushing the boys away last night had seemed like a good idea, if only because she needed to decompress. Now, however, she realized she was going to have to face them again, along with Pepper and her grandmother, no, Agent 22. 

“Can’t sleep, pink?” Lena asked, leaning on her elbow and watching her best friend. 

“I’m fine,” Webby lied and Lena frowned.

“You were a mess last night. You’re not fine and you’re a terrible liar, Webs,” Lena said flatly. “What’s going on?”

Webby sighed, her shoulders slumping. She couldn’t hide anything from Lena. True, she wanted to, but it wasn’t fair to demand Lena refrain from secret-keeping if Webby was doing it. Besides, she didn’t want to push her away. Nonetheless, she didn’t look at her when she spoke.

“I know I should be happy that I have a mother,” Webby began, “but everything’s just a mess. Pepper is part of an evil organization that tried to kill you, not to mention attacking my family. Then there’s Granny--Mrs. Beakley, who raised me like her granddaughter but was never related to me at all. I still feel like I should be loyal to Agent 22, except she’s the reason I didn’t know my mother. On the other hand, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if I’d been at FOWL or if Pepper would’ve even stayed with me. She might’ve left with me.”

“Yeah, raising a kid in an evil organization probably isn’t the best idea,” Lena agreed. “Look at me. I was partially raised by my evil aunt--on second thought, don’t look at me.”

“But you still turned out good,” Webby protested, turning to glance at her.

“I had a little help,” Lena said with a gentle smile. She shifted so that she was sitting beside Webby on the floor. They had pulled out sleeping bags in a demonstration of solidarity, though they could’ve just slept on the bed. Webby wouldn’t have been upset to be the only one in a sleeping bag.

“What I don’t understand is why Pepper stuck with it,” Webby said. 

“She’d lost everything else,” Lena reminded her. “Maybe FOWL felt safe after she lost you.”

“Maybe,” Webby allowed. She curled into a ball. “I don’t want to think about this and it’s all that I can think about. It’s maddening.”

She sighed. “I’m going to have to make a decision, aren’t I? If I return to McDuck Manor and the boys, Mrs. Beakley’s not going away. But wouldn’t that be turning my back on my mother? Do I want to know her?

“I remember when Della came back and Louie was hesitant about having her around. I know it’s not Pepper’s fault that she didn’t raise me; it was Agent 22’s. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling like…”

Webby faltered, swallowing hard. She glanced down at the floor. It didn’t stop her from feeling like there was something wrong with her for not instantly wanting to be close to her mother. Or for feeling guilty that she still loved Mrs. Beakley, despite her not being her mother. It wasn’t like finding out the truth had suddenly changed _everything_ , even if it had felt like that. 

“Like garbage?” Lena suggested and Webby nodded.

“I know why Granny--Agent 22--said she did it,” Webby said. “I was upset with her. I still am. I want everything to go back to the way it was before I knew the truth. But that can’t happen.”

Lena shifted again and caressed Webby’s cheek. “Life doesn’t go in reverse no matter how hard you want it to, pink. Take it from someone who was trapped in the shadow realm for three months. You don’t want to be a passive participant in your life. Or spend all of your time reliving the last few minutes of your life.”

“I didn’t--” Webby started and Lena shook her head. Her best friend wore a sad smile that made Webby’s heart pang. 

“It’s not your fault,” Lena said quietly. “It was my choice and I would do it again if I had to. What I’m trying to say is that you can’t hide from this.”

Webby nodded, hugging Lena regardless. 

“You can always stay here until you figure things out,” Lena proposed and Webby’s beak twitched toward a weak smile.

“I want to, but I can’t,” Webby said. Despite what had happened, she still wanted Mrs. Beakley in her life. That was the worst part. She wanted the boys, of course, but that wasn’t even a question. What _was_ a question was whether she could figure out how to balance Pepper with Agent 22. Or when it’d stop being painful to be in Agent 22’s presence. The same went for Scrooge McDuck too, because he’d helped to perpetuate the lie.

“I need to go home,” Webby said. “But, maybe...after breakfast.”

She could take the time before breakfast to mull things over and decide her approach. When she dug out her cell phone from her bag, she saw Dewey had sent her texts. A few of them consisted of sad face emojis while others entreated her to return home and the rest were just him sending her photos of himself looking mournful. 

“It can wait until after breakfast,” Lena agreed. 

That would be time enough to face whatever awaited her. 

Mrs. Beakley had left her a voicemail and Webby hit play, although not without misgivings.

“Hello, dear. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me--that I’m probably the last person you want to hear from. I know you’re upset and you have good reason to be. I have no claim on you and I want you to know that whatever you decide, whether you come back here or go elsewhere, that I’ll always be here for you. If you want me.

“I love you. I will always love you, no matter what. I’m sorry for what happened and I’m sorry that you found out the way that you did. Please know that it was never my intention to hurt you--”

Lena cursed under her breath at that and Webby raised her eyebrows.

“--and I’ll understand if you never want to speak to me again. Trust is a hard thing to regain once it’s lost.

“Please call me back or, I suppose, text me, if you prefer.”

Lena snorted, clearly having a hard time imagining Mrs. Beakley texting. To be honest, Webby did too. Webby faltered, staring at her cell phone and weighing her options again.

“What’s it going to be?” Lena queried once the message had ended. “It’s up to you.”

“I’ll call her back,” Webby promised. “After breakfast.”

She wondered whether she’d be able to eat at all. 

* * *

She hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, as it turned out. Her stomach was a hard knot and no matter what the Sabrewings offered her, she couldn’t stand the smell, much less swallow it. Everything turned to sawdust in her beak. Finally, she retreated to Lena’s and Violet’s room. Her best friends watched her closely; Lena looked like she’d take a bullet for Webby if Webby mentioned it, even in passing.

“I’ve made a decision,” Weby said.

“And?” Lena said.

“I can’t stay with my mother at FOWL,” Webby said. “I mean, I want to get to know my mother, but maybe slowly, not all at once. And despite my mom maybe not being an evil person who just happened to get involved with a bad organization, they’ve done stuff that I can’t ignore, either. 

“I don’t really want to go back to the mansion, though. Not yet. I’d like to say with you guys for a while if that’s okay. I’ll help around the house, or, or…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lena said at once.

“You’ll be a guest, not an imposition,” Violet added.

Webby nodded, a weak smile flitting onto her beak and then vanishing again. “But I don’t know what to do now. Do I reach out to Pepper? Do I just let everything sit? I’m not used to not knowing what to do.”

Lena and Violet took Webby’s hands.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Lena promised. “Both of us, the boys, and everyone else.”

“Don’t rush into anything,” Violet said.

Webby nodded. She didn’t want to rush into anything, including judgment or being near someone else other than the girls right now. They felt safe and weren’t prying. 

“I’m gonna call Gran--Agent 22,” Webby said. “I guess I owe her that much.”

“Up to you, pink,” Lena said and Webby wanted to smile, but she couldn’t muster it up.

“You’re not going anywhere, right?”

“We live here,” Lena pointed out and Violet nudged her hard in the ribs. Lena growled, but Webby could tell she wasn’t that upset. It was a sibling quibble. She’d seen them among the triplets.

“That’s not what she meant,” Violet said. 

Webby managed a weak smile this time. She’d be okay. Maybe not now, but in time.


End file.
